Moonshot Summer
by James7912b
Summary: In July of 1969, a Khaki Scout, inspired by both Sam Shakusky and the Apollo 11 Mission, sets out on his own rite of passage. Features original characters and characters from the film.
1. Fort Lebanon

**Part 1: Moonrise Summer**

" _Summer afternoon-summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language"-Henry James_

 **Chapter 1: Fort Lebanon**

 _A bearded bespectacled man stands on the shoreline with a wall of sand dunes to his back._

"This is the Island of Saint Jack Wood: 9 miles long and 7 miles at its widest; it is covered with both pine and maple forest as well as many fields dotted with farms; it is populated with 5,198 souls, most of which reside in the township that gives the island its name."

 _The man, who serves as the community's librarian and historian is now standing in front of the entrance to a wooden compound, a tall and skinny scout named Dwight Joseph 'DJ' Leffingwell stands on a parapet along a wall, raises his bugle to his lips and lets forth a brassy melody._

"The year is 1969 and I am standing in front of Fort Lebanon, the regional headquarters of the Khaki Scouts of North America, which is currently filling up with many troops from around the region. They have come to take part in the annual Hullabaloo which is taking place earlier than normal to coincide with the Apollo 11 Moon landing of the 20th of July…in three days' time."

 _ **Inspection:**_

 **Fort Lebanon, 17 July 1969-**

The boys of Khaki Scouts of North America Troop 55 were gathered together with several dozen other KSNA troops at Fort Lebanon for this year's annual Hullabaloo which, based on the momentous event that was currently unfolding during this Moonrise Summer, was being held in mid-July instead of the usual early September as in years past.

The eight boys of Troop 55 were quartered in **Hut 11,** a small hut with roll-up sides. They had just finished unpacking their ruck sacks and stowing their field gear and were now filing out of the hut at the beck and call of the bugler's tune. Like rats being led by the Pied Piper, they filed out and formed up in front of their temporary home.

At the same time a tall man in his middle 40s walked out of a hut that housed four scoutmasters. The scoutmaster, a math teacher, walked up to the assembled scouts, pausing to put out his cigarette on his shoe and deposit it in a trashcan. At once the smallest of the scouts trotted up to his side, pencil and pad in hand, to assist him in his inspection.

Scoutmaster Randall Ward stopped in front of the first scout, an athletic boy with All-American good looks.

"Good morning sir," cam the chipper voice of the boy.

"Good morning Tucker," replied Ward, "What is the First Scout Law?"

"Sir, Every Scout is your brother, regardless of who he is, you will be unwavering and straight forward in solidarity which must bind together all members of the same troop."

"Correct."

Ward moved onto the next scout, a tall and skinny lad with intelligent eyes and dark hair.

"Doc, what are the three types of bleeding?"

"Arterial, venous, and capillary Sir."

"Excellent."

"Good morning Archer,"

The short boy with a steely gaze nicknamed Archer sported the highest-level badge for archery. It was said that he could take out a running squirrel at 50 paces.

"Good morning Sir!"

Ward looked the boy up and down and asked, "What is the Second Scout Law?"

"A Scout is good and upright at all times Sir!"

"Good," he replied and moved on to Archer's twin.

"How are you today Trigger?"

"Excellent as always Sir," responded Archer's non-identical and three minutes younger twin. Trigger earned his moniker for his accuracy with an air rifle. His thick glasses were no deterrent for his aim. Additionally he was regarded as the best Pathfinder around.

Ward moved down the line.

"How's the arm doing Tripp?" he asked a glum-looking boy whose left arm was in a sling.

"Horrible."

"Doc, make sure Tripp keeps his arm stable.

"Will do Sir!"

Ward now came to a short, brown haired boy who wore a pair of binoculars around his neck.

"What bear species is native to this area Bishop?"

Bishop replied matter-of-factly, _Ursus Americanus_ , the American Black Bear Sir."

"Very good."

Ward reached the end of the line and looked at the last scout. This scout was professional looking in that his uniform was without flaw however there was something about the boy that was off. He peered closely and studied the boy's eyes. The brown pupils told him nothing but still there was something about this boy that eluded him.

"How are you today Sullivan?"

"Good Sir," came a flat, emotionless reply.

Ward detected something that was _off_ in the boy's voice. He scrutinized the whippet-slim 12 year old and asked, "What is the Third Scout Law?"

"No Scout is an island, he is part of a team; no Scout leaves another behind."

Ward looked at the boy and thought about how the lad's personality had changed in the past few months. He had become quieter and more distant. He had drifted away from the other boys including Gregory Tucker. The two had been close friends, if not best friends, but now the two had a bit of animosity between them. He had talked to Sullivan about it a back in May but the boy hadn't yielded any secrets. It bothered the scoutmaster that he couldn't get to the bottom of it.

The rest of the troop circled around Tucker and left Sullivan as an odd man out. It reminded the scoutmaster of a certain other scout from four years previous. He stopped analyzing Sullivan and continued with his inspection.

"Very good," Ward said and then glanced down at his scribe. "Puddle, what is the Fourth Scout Law?"

"A Scout is a caretaker and steward of nature Sir!"

Ward smiled at the ginger-haired boy and then addressed the entire troop: "Troops, what is the Fifth Scout Law?"

As one they replied, "A Scout is brave and steadfast even in the face of danger!"

"And what is the Khaki Scout motto?"

"Fidelity, fearlessness and friendship!"

All the boys said this in booming voices with the lone exception of Sullivan. His naturally low voice was largely drowned out but it was still audible to Bishop who glanced out of the corner of his eye at the taller boy.

 _Something is the matter with Sullivan,_ Bishop thought to himself. A moment later his attention was taken off the taller boy as Ward fell his troop out for lunch chow.

 _ **Lunch:**_

 **The Mess Hall-**

The raucous sounds of a plethora of boys filled the large mess hall as the gathered scouts enjoyed their lunch in comradeship.

"Pass the salt Spud," Tucker said to Puddle with a sly smile.

"It's Puddle, not Spud," replied the newest arrival.

"I know, I know but ya gotta admit, you look like Spud Sperling," Tucker said as he pointed his finger in the direction of another short red-headed scout who sat at the table to the left along with Blackie Muldoon, Chester Boyle, and Tommy "Kitty Kat" Kittenger who were 4 of the 12 members of Troop 56.

"I do not!" Puddle denied loudly even though he knew that the only thing that differentiated him from Spud, other than they're not being related, was Spud's lack of freckles and glasses. Noticing the grins from his tablemates, he withdrew his glasses from his right breast pocket (he disliked wearing them) and put them on his face in an attempt to disguise himself from his doppelganger.

"You know guys?" Doc asked the boys, "Puddle looks nothing like Spud!"

The boys stared and then watched as Doc burst out in laughter which prompted the others to follow suit at the little good-natured jab. Even Puddle broke into a smile and joined in the mirth. Everyone did…except Sullivan.

Sullivan was in no mood to join in on the laughter. He had too much going through his mind for it. He looked down at this lunch; a roast beef sandwich and chips. He wasn't very hungry at all. He sighed and waited for the meal to end.

"Hey Sullivan?" said Bishop.

He looked to his left at the smaller boy and replied, "What?"

"Ain't ya gonna eat?"

"Yeah Sullivan, if you don't eat you'll get so thin that when you look straight ahead no one will be able to see you!" joked Doc Kowalski.

"Nobody bothers with him anyways," added Tucker.

Sullivan glowered at Tucker. He wanted to say something but he thought better of it. He knew that everyone would side with the All-American boy-next-door if he did. Tucker was everything that he wasn't: Tall for his age, taller than Scott by about four inches, and muscular whereas he was scrawny. Tucker had flawless skin, a perfect smile, good looks, and an athleticism that set him above all of the other kids. He was also dating one of the prettiest girls in school. Gregory Tucker was the poster boy for the ideal Khaki Scout.

But none of that was what bothered Sullivan. It was something else.

Ignoring the jibe, he picked up his sandwich and forced himself to eat. Maybe eating would help him get his mind off of things.


	2. A Sense of Adventure

**Chapter 2: A Sense of Adventure**

 _ **Math teacher on the side:**_

 **Scout Master's Hut # 2-**

Scout Master Ward loved what he did: Scout Master, Troop 55, he was a math teacher on the side. He had been a Khaki Scout as a boy and had loved the outdoors and everything that went with it. He especially enjoyed providing guidance and purpose to his troops.

He had first become a scoutmaster a few years ago and had found it more fulfilling than sitting in a classroom teaching algebra. Everything had gone well since with the exception of a certain incident that had occurred in September of 1965. The incident had almost cost him his position in the KSNA but thanks to some unforeseen events he had bounced back and was still leading his troop.

Following the incident, he had finally gotten the courage up to ask Becky Hamilton, the local switchboard operator on New Penzance Island, to go out on a date. Four months later they were engaged and nine months after, married. Randall Ward Junior had followed 10 months afterward. Now he and Becky were expecting a second child that was due in mid-October.

The future was looking rosy for Randall Ward.

 _ **Troop 55 history lesson:**_

 **Hut # 11-**

"You know something Bishop?" asked Archer.

"What?"

"If them binoculars of yours were any bigger, you could see into the future."

"Where did you get them?" asked Trigger, "They're pretty nice."

"There actually my sister's."

"You're sisters huh?" Archer and Trigger said in perfect sync.

Bishop was slightly unnerved with the McMillan twins. Although they looked nothing alike, the two had this odd habit of speaking the same things at the same time. They also finished eachother's sentences, and even seemed to be able to communicate with one another without talking. He found that particular trait downright creepy.

"Yeah, I borrowed them."

The conversation was interrupted by Puddle.

"So guys, this is the same camp where Sam and Suzy got married?"

"Actually the marriage wasn't recognized by the state, county, or any courtroom in the world," said Doc.

"They also weren't of legal age and didn't have parental consent."

This last comment came from the always morose Tripp, who really did live up to his name. A week earlier the hapless Tripp had tripped on a tree root while running and fell causing his left arm to break. Thankfully he was allowed to attend the Hullabaloo.

"Guys I know it wasn't a real marriage," said Puddle, "But I can't believe that I'm really in the same troop as Sam…he's a legend you know."

Sam Shakusky was indeed a legend. The adventure that he, Suzy Bishop, and their predecessor Troop 55 scouts had gone on four years earlier had spread throughout every KSNA troop in the USA. He had first heard about it in late 1965 when he was a Junior Khaki Scout in his old troop: Troop 174 from Albuquerque, New Mexico.

Now the new arrival found himself in the very same troop with the very same scoutmaster. And even more amazingly, Suzy Bishop's brother Lionel was in the same exact troop!

"We need an adventure…" said Trigger.

"Like that" said Archer as he completed the sentence.

Then the twins spoke as one, "Or an adventure like the astronauts!"

The two spoke in the same monotone voice.

"We'd never be able to go and do something like that," said Tripp who lay on his bunk with his eyes shut.

"Like what the old troop did or the astronauts?" asked Doc.

"Both."

"What do you think Bishop?" Puddle asked.

"I'm just glad I got to be a part of it," he answered as he toyed with his wind-up radio. He had received the radio from his parents for his birthday and was using it to listen to the news about Apollo 11. He had found out that the National Aeronautics and Space Administration was going to be having live broadcasts aired so that people everywhere could follow the astronauts' progress.

"Lucky!"

Bishop wasn't happy about the whole affair when it happened, but looking back he had enjoyed himself. It wasn't every day that someone could have an adventure on the Island of New Penzance.

"It really was an adventure."

"I wish I coulda been in on it," chimed in Tucker, "I wouldn't have let your sister stab me in the back with lefty scissors."

Bishop giggled.

"What was that guys' name," asked Puddle, "Redford, right?"

"Right-O Spud-I mean Puddle," said Tucker.

"What ever happened to that guy?" Puddle asked, ignoring the Spud remark.

"He left the Khaki Scouts and works at a gas station in town."

"Did he ever get back at Sam and Suzy?"

"Nope," said Bishop, "They put it all behind them."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I guess he realized that Sam's not a bad guy and that Suzy only did it in self-defense…Redford's mellowed out a lot."

Puddle grinned and said, "I really wished I coulda been here when it happened."

"Scoutmaster Ward has a picture of the old Troop somewhere…and Paneagle's club is in the nature lodge."

"Paneagle's club?"

"Yes, this scout named Paneagle had this makeshift club that looked like it came from the Stone Age. Captain Sharp got a hold of it but gave it to Scoutmaster Ward."

"I'd like to see it, I didn't notice it when I went in there."

As is on cue, Scoutmaster Ward walked into the boys' hut.

"Attention on Deck!" said Archer.

The boys jumped to their feet and stood at attention.

"At ease troops," replied Scoutmaster Ward, "Almost done settling in?"

"Yes Sir," said Tucker, "Bishop here was just explaining the Troop's history to Puddle."

"Really, what about?"

"Sam and Suzy."

Ward smiled, "Those two put this troop through the ringer…and I'm happy they did. They brought out the best in everybody."

"Even Redford Sir?" asked Doc.

"Even Redford, although that took a while longer."

"Scoutmaster Ward," said Puddle, "Bishop says that there is a club in the nature lodge."

Ward smiled, "Paneagle's club. It's on display."

"You even have a picture of the old troop," added Bishop.

"I'll be right back," Ward said then turned around and walked out. A few minutes later he returned with the famous club and an 8 by 11 photograph in a frame.

"Is that it?" Puddle asked.

"Yes it is."

Puddle looked at the wooden club in awe like it was some sort of archaeological find. The club was made of wood and had nails driven through the head.

"Wow that could really put the hurt on someone."

"And here is the picture."

Ward handed the picture to Puddle who took it into his hands. The rest of the boys gathered around him.

The picture showed Troop 55 from yesteryear. A plaque in front of them read:

 **Troop 55:**

 **New Penzance Island**

 **June 24** **th** **, 1965**

The whole troop was there. _Back row standing left to right: R. Deluca, C. Gadge, M. "Chef" Derderian, Scoutmaster R. Ward, T. Nickelby, A. Paneagle. Front row kneeling left to right: L.J. Izod, C. "Lazy-Eye" Kilgore, S. Shakusky, L. Redford, S. Roosevelt. G. Skotak,_ and a small terrier named _Snoopy._

"They were my troop," said Ward, "Just like you all are now."

He looked at his boys; there were smiles on their faces, except Sullivan who had a smirk.

Ward continued.

"They all embodied something that is being celebrated at this Hullabaloo."

"What's that Sir?" asked Doc.

"A Sense of Adventure."

"We need an adventure," Puddle said and the boys nodded in agreement.

Boys the world over dreampt of adventure.

Scott Sullivan was going to make that dream a reality.


	3. Rites of Passage

**Chapter 3: Rites of Passage**

 _ **Blackie:**_

"Hey Sullivan," can I get a smoke?" asked Blackie Muldoon, one of the scouts from Troop 56.

Sullivan, smoking his own cigarette, shrugged, reached into his left pocket and pulled out a metal cigarette case that contained nine Lucky Strikes. He offered one to Blackie who like him had snuck off from his troop into the tree line.

Blackie, so nicknamed due to his black hair, took the offered cigarette, "Thanks Sullivan."

Sullivan then reached into a pocket and brought out a Zippo lighter which he handed over.

Blackie took it, flicked it open, and lit his cigarette. He then handed it back and took a drag.

"Ya know Sully, I don't care what anybody says about you: you're a good guy."

"Thanks Blackie, you're not so bad yourself."

"How many you got left?"

"Eight now, I need to make them last until the Hullabaloo is over."

"Someone else might have some."

Contraband like cigarettes and chewing tobacco were big business and were mainly trafficked by the older scouts who were looking to make a buck or two for supplying the needed and wanted articles.

The two quickly finished off their Lucky Strikes, stubbed them out with the bottoms of their shoes, then tossed them onto the ground and parted company.

Sullivan waited until Blackie had walked away before he reached down and grabbed the two butts. He then walked back to the hut while thinking about what the others in his troop had said about him and why they said it.

He knew they didn't really like him. They weren't a bad bunch of fellows but he just didn't feel any connection with them. They all gravitated toward Tucker and Tucker didn't like him which meant that they didn't like him either. Of course both he and Tucker had their own problems that went back about a year.

There was another thing on Scott's mind that weighed heavily on him: his home life.

 _ **Flashback:**_

 **ST. Jack Wood, March-**

The sounds of his parents arguing was becoming too much for Scott Sullivan. The snide remarks, looks of contempt, and insinuations had gradually escalated into all-out shouting matches over the past few months. Things were getting so bad that he was constantly on pins and needles around them.

They didn't argue all the time, but the frequency of the arguments was growing. He was losing sleep over it and was worried all the time. We're his parents going to divorce? If so, then where would he go?

At first he tried to get them to stop arguing, but they only ignored his pleas. He imagined that they didn't want him to know the reason why their marriage was falling apart but he knew: they didn't love one another anymore. Both accused the other of being unfaithful. Was it true? Did they love other people? Where would that put him?

As of now, his father was currently residing in a spare room while his mother stayed in their bedroom. They took their meals at different times, balanced around their work schedules, and they did their best to avoid one another. He had been forced to divvy up his time between each parent. They didn't discuss the predicament with their only child, they just tried to act like nothing was wrong.

He felt that they didn't trust him with the truth. He was only a boy and wouldn't understand, his father had said to him one afternoon, but he was old enough to understand he felt. He may only be twelve but he knew that his parent's marriage was coming apart and that sooner or later he would have to live with one and visit the other.

Other kids had divorced parents but he had never imagined that he would find himself in their shoes. He wanted rebel, to channel his frustrations and uncertainties and get back at them for ruining his comfortable home life, but he couldn't. He had been a good boy his whole life but something was happening to him that he couldn't quite explain.

Scoutmaster Ward had noticed that something was bothering him and had sat him down one afternoon during a scout outing.

 _ **One on One Talk:**_

 **Camp Ivanhoe-May**

Scott's troubles had been noticed by Scoutmaster Ward one afternoon while he and the troop were spending a weekend at Camp Ivanhoe. The scoutmaster had pulled him aside and sat him down outside of his tent.

"Sullivan, may I talk with you for a moment?" Ward had asked him as the others had plodded off to work on their fishing skills. Today they were challenged to catch their own dinner and to cook it as well.

"Yes Sir," he had replied and followed Ward to the scoutmaster's tent.

Ward opened up his tent, pulled out a small folding chair and gave it to Sullivan.

"How is everything?"

"Fine Sir."

"Pardon me for asking, but it seems like something's bothering you."

Scott studied the scoutmaster's face and saw a look of understanding. Ward had a reputation as a scoutmaster who was genuinely interested with and concerned for his scouts' well-being. Scott debated telling him.

"I'm okay."

"Are you sure?"

 _Should I tell him?_

"I've just been having a lot going on."

"With school? Or home?"

Scott got quiet and then said, "Just some school stuff, homework I have to get done by Monday."

Ward looked at the boy and felt that there was something else going on. He had a feeling that he knew what it was.

"You know I've noticed that the others haven't been as nice to you lately as they should."

The statement hung in the air for a few moments before Scott replied.

"It's no problem."

"I know Tucker can be a kind of big man on campus center of attention type of person, but he's not a bad guy. You may be having some issues with one another but I think he'll remember the First Scout Law."

"Think he's forgotten it Sir?"

"A little," Ward answered, "I hear he's pretty popular so maybe that's why he is acting the way he has been…it seems like he's very persuasive with the others."

"He is."

"You two are friends though right?"

"Were."

"Were?"

"We're not anymore."

"That's a shame."

Scott shrugged his shoulders but didn't reply.

Ward continued, "If he gets out of line I'll intervene."

Scott shrugged again.

"Is there something else bothering you? You seem pretty down."

Scott debated telling the scoutmaster about his parents and his home life. But he didn't. That was his business and no one else's. He decided to change the subject.

"I have to catch up with the others so I can catch my dinner."

Ward was going to ask him if everything was good at home but he stopped himself. Sullivan, it appeared, didn't want to talk right now. It was true also, that the boys needed to catch dinner, so he let the conversation end with one final comment.

"I suppose you do," he looked Sullivan in the eyes and said, "If you ever need to talk…then I'm here…for you and the rest of the troop."

Sullivan smiled his patented enigmatic smile that told one absolutely nothing, stood, and went off to grab his fishing pole.

 _ **The Reason for the Decision:**_

 **Back in the present-**

These past months had saw great change in his life. His family was going to pieces as he was on the verge of adolescence. He was growing up into a future of uncertainty. Soon he wouldn't be a boy any longer but a teenager. His childhood was ending and he was stepping into uncharted territory.

He had read somewhere that in some cultures when a boy was going to become a man he was sent out into the wilderness. There the boy would have to survive on his own and when he came back he would be a man. Something like this was called a rite of passage. Scott needed to find out who he was and what he was about. It was like the McMillian twins said, an adventure. He needed an adventure.

Being in the very troop that Sam Shakusky had been in, he had often wondered how it would have been to be a part of that great adventure. All the boys in the troop must've thought the same way given that they were living in the shadow of Shakusky, Redford, Lazy-Eye, and the rest of their forebearers. Those other boys had all marginalized Sam Shakusky just like he had been marginalized by Tucker and the rest. Sam wasn't like the other boys and so he had been shunned. With Scott it was different.

Scott wasn't too different from the rest. His ostracization stemmed from something else, or rather _someone else:_ Gregory Tucker. Tucker, Mr. Johnny Football/All-American boy-next-door, himself was the main reason. The other scouts all sided with their leader. If Tucker liked you then the others would like you too. If not, then they'd all dislike you.

It shouldn't have happened this way though, after all, he and Tucker had once been friends. The two boys had been next-door neighbors since they were toddlers and had become the best of friends. Everything had been fine between the two until a year earlier when Tucker had started treating him like dirt. For some reason Tucker had turned on him and had started bullying him at school. Maybe Tucker wanted to be with the in-crowd now that they were both in junior high school. Scott had tried to talk to his friend about it but he was met with hostility. Whatever bonds they had between them were now gone.

Regardless, the two of them still had to deal with each other at their bi-monthly Khaki Scout meetings and now they were stuck together in the same hut for the duration of the Hullabaloo. He had to get away and the annual gathering provided the best opportunity to do that and to experience an adventure.

The biggest motivator for his decision to emulate Sam Shakusky wasn't just Sam's adventure, or even being around Gregory Tucker for the Hullabaloo; it was Apollo 11. The shifting of the annual event to coincide with the astronauts' journey had given him the impetus to carry out his plan. If he couldn't have an adventure with the astronauts, then he would have his own. He decided weeks ago to blast off, as it were, from Fort Lebanon and journey to different kind of moon.

He was going to go to the fabled Moonrise Kingdom. That would be his own moon landing.

He knew the story of it and how Mile 3.25 Tidal Inlet had been named Moonrise Kingdom by Sam and Suzy. There was a painting of it in the Bishop home that had been painted by Sam. He also knew that the inlet had been washed away by the storm in 1965. Even though it had been erased by nature he would go there. He planned to listen in on the astronauts' progress (for this he would _borrow_ Bishop's wind-up radio) and would, if everything worked out as planned, set foot upon the site just as the astronauts set foot on the Moon.

All he had to do before he undertook his rite of passage was to wait until the others went to sleep.


	4. Take a Hike

**Chapter 4: Take a Hike**

 _ **Dinner:**_

 **The Mess Hall**

Salisbury steak. Despite his misgivings about it, it actually tasted pretty good to Scott. In fact it was the best Salisbury steak he had ever had and he'd had it more than once. He gulped it down along with the extra helpings of potatoes that he had cajoled George Silveria, Troop 54's contribution to kitchen duty, into giving him. Tomorrow morning it would be his turn for KP and then Doc's the next day.

He wolfed down his meal and then waited for the call for seconds to be given.

"Making up for pecking at your lunch Sullivan?" asked Doc.

"Something like that," he replied while doing his best to get enough food in his system in preparation for his trek.

"Well that's good. We can't have scouts passing out from lack of nutrition and dehydration," Doc commented then added, "Is everyone drinking water? I want to make sure everyone is staying hydrated. We all need to be as healthy as possible."

"Yes mother," quipped the McMillian twins in perfect unison.

Bishop giggled.

"Just doing my job," replied Doc.

Doc Kowalski, son of Polish immigrants, was Troop 55's resident Medic Scout and H2O Purifier. As someone who wanted to be a doctor someday, he took his duties seriously even to the point where he could become slightly overbearing and coddling toward his fellow scouts.

"If you're doing your job," asked Tucker sarcastically, "Then why is Tripp's arm still in a sling?"

"I can only try to keep it stable, it has to heal on its own."

It was unfortunate for the troop that Tripp had a broken arm. He was prevented from adequately carrying out his special duties as the troop's Woodmaster. However he was still useful in his secondary role as Signal Scout.

All of the boys in Troop 55 had their primary and secondary duties. Tucker had qualifications as a Boxer and Flint Chipper, Trigger wore badges that designated him as both Sharpshooter and Pathfinder, Archer sported Signal Scout and Bow Hunter, Bishop was a Bear Spotter and Fieldmate (trained up for the latter by Sam Shakusky), Puddle served as a Scribe and was specially trained for the Reptile Patrol, and Sullivan was a Fieldmate and Pathfinder.

Most boys in the KSNA had two special duties although some had more which largely depended on age. 17 year old Duncan O'Dell was a Falcon Scout Legionnaire as well as Lifeguard, Surveyor, and Fire Warden which all went along with his numerous Accomplishment Buttons. Then again, he was close to becoming an adult.

Other scouts had different duties that no one in Troop 55 had. Turtle Richardson of Troop 53 was (aside from the obvious Reptile Patrol) a Meteorologist Scout. Daryl Fox, also of Troop 53, was a Photographer, DJ Leffingwell of Troop 52 was a Petty Bugler, and Tiger McNally from Troop 51 was the first scout in the state to be designated as a Scuba Diver (this was a new skill that came into effect this summer) which made him very popular.

Now however, Scott waited patiently for nightfall and lights out. All he had to do was ensure that everyone was asleep so he could tip-toe out of the hut and be on his way. He had his pack ready to go (with the exception of a few things) and had made sure to secure enough food and sundries before he left home. He doubted that his parents would take the time to notice that some items were missing from their well-stocked pantry.

Scott's thoughts and the chatter of over 100 boys was interrupted by the clanging of metal pots being banged together. The troops quieted and watched as the bespectacled Secretary McIntire, aid to the camp commander, climbed onto a dais at the end of the mess hall.

"Muster on the Parade Field in ten minutes!"

"Looks like the old man is gonna give us his spiel," said Tucker, "So scarf down your chow and let's hop to it!"

The boys quickly complied…except for Scott. He was content to enjoy the rest of his food seeing as he was being deprived of seconds.

 _ **Sticks and Stones:**_

Tucker glared at him, "Come on Sullivan, hurry up."

"Yeah, hurry up," added Archer.

"Eat now, taste later," commented Trigger.

Scott sighed and continued to wolf down his meal.

Tucker shook his head in disgust.

"You barely eat anything this afternoon and now you want to feast. I don't get you Sullivan."

"I don't get me either Tucker," Scott replied dryly.

"Sometimes I wonder why you're even in this troop. You should go join your friend Muldoon over in 56, that way you can smoke all you want with the rest of the Black Sheep."

Troop 56 indeed had a bad reputation. Former members had been in trouble over the years for all sorts of things ranging from harmless pranks to outright felonies. The Black Sheep, as they were nicknamed, wore their bad reputation as a badge of honor and Blackie Muldoon was no exception.

"Blackie's not such a bad guy," Scott said in defense of the near-do-well Muldoon.

"Really? Smoking in defiance of camp rules is not a good thing Sullivan and you shouldn't have been smoking either."

"What makes you think I was smoking?"

"Gee, I don't know," Tucker said sarcastically, "Maybe cuz me and Doc saw you head off into the woods before chow and light one up."

"Smoking is illegal for minors Sullivan," Doc said.

Bishop leaned close and sniffed Sullivan, "It doesn't help that you smell like smoke."

"OK," Scott said holding his hands up as if surrendering, "You got me."

"I should report you to Scoutmaster Ward," Tucker said then added in a condescending tone, "But I'm no snitch."

"Yeah, you're too perfect," Scott said sarcastically.

"Troublemaker," you're going to get yourself into trouble Sullivan. You're turning into our own little black sheep."

"Bahhhhh," Scott bleated in his best sheep impersonation, "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me."

The others laughed at Scott's mocking of Tucker.

Tucker wasn't amused.

"Geez, I can't stand you Sullivan."

Scott looked at his former friend in disgust. _Why does he hate me? What did I ever do to him?_ Scott had in fact asked Gregory why he didn't want to be friends anymore. He asked him right after they began to drift apart and all Tucker said was ' _because.'_

 _Because? what kind of reason is that?_

 _"_ C'mon guys, its time to hit the road," said Puddle.

As one, or almost one (Sullivan stayed seated), the boys stood, grabbed their trays, and headed out to drop off their dirty plates and utensils.

Tripp, carefully balancing his tray with his good arm, looked over his shoulder and said, "You comin'?"

Scott finished what was left of his side of potatoes, stood with his tray, and followed Tripp out.

 _ **Formation:**_

 **The Field-**

Over 300 boys representing troops from all over this region of the state filled the marching field waiting to hear Commander Pierce's opening remarks. As Troop 55 made their way toward Scoutmaster Ward, they passed troop after troop of Khaki Scouts. They walked by Spinner Robinson, moved passed Sebastian Pulaski who was currently briefing Troop 50's newest scout, French immigrant Alain, ingeniously nicknamed 'Frenchie,' Lemieux, to what was happening.

The troop had to stop a moment as four scouts from Troop 41 crossed their path. The troops, Allen 'Fruit' Frahm, Matthew 'Ollie' Oliver, Nathan 'Hef' Heflin, and Christopher 'Kip' Foley stopped as Heflin noticed Puddle.

"New guy Tripp?"

Tripp replied to his friend from his old school and old troop, "Yeah, Puddle joined not too long ago."

"Puddle!" Fruit laughed before taking a bite out of a green apple, "That's a good one!"

"Liking the new troop?" asked Kip.

"It's not bad," Tripp replied.

"What happened to your arm?" asked Ollie Oliver.

"I fell."

"Living up to your name?" asked Heflin.

Tripp blushed and was about to answer when Tucker hollered, "Hey! We're over here you two!"

Tripp and Puddle looked to the rest of the troop which had kept going while he and Puddle were waylaid.

"We gotta to run, great seeing you guys!"

The quartet sent off their former troopmate with light punches on his arms and smiles on their faces.

Tripp and Puddle made it to their troop just in time.

As the ceremony was beginning, Richie Fraidy from Troop 49 was called by name to do the honor of lighting the torches that stood on the ends of the platform that Commander Pierce would be addressing the troops from.

"FRAIDY CAT, FRAIDY CAT, FRAIDY CAT!" came the chorus of Troop 49 as Richie 'Fraidy Cat' Fraidy appeared from behind their ranks with a lit torch and sprinted across the field to the platform, hollering as he went. He scrambled onto the platform and quickly lit the torches to the resounding cheer of the assembled troops, "FRAIDY CAT, FRAIDY CAT, FRAIDY CAT!"

Fraidy Cat turned to face the assembly, lifted the torch over his head, and gave out a loud "MEOW!" The assembly laughed and Fraidy Cat charged back into the crowd.

As Fraidy Cat left, Secretary McIntire and the Old Man took the stage. The boys were called to attention and then put at rest.

Commander Pierce walked to the railing at the edge of the stage, looked out over his assembled troops and spoke:

"Troops, first off, I would like to say that I am proud off all of the great things that you have accomplished since last year's Hullabaloo. Even though it hasn't been a year, you have done a great deal. And now we gather together to celebrate our astronauts' mission to the Moon. They embody a central theme of the Khaki Scouts of North America…Adventure!"

The scouts cheered.

"Adventure is something that every boy in the world dreams about and although we can't send you to the Moon, we can give you opportunities for adventure while you are here!"

Another cheer.

Scott smiled.

Bishop looked up at Sullivan and noticed that he had a sneaky smile on his face.

"What's with the smile Sullivan?"

Sullivan looked at the smaller boy and replied, "Can't wait until the Moon landing."

"Me either," said Bishop who had no idea what 'Moon landing' Sullivan actually meant.

Commander Pierce finished his remarks and the scouts as one stated the Khaki Scout Motto and the Five Scout Laws.

The formation broke up as each scoutmaster herded his troop back to their huts.

 _ **Future Astronauts:**_

 **Hut 11-**

"Lemme tell you guys something," Tucker began, "I guarantee that if I was an astronaut, I'd be the first man on Mars."

"Then I'd be the first man on Jupiter," said Tripp.

"You'd be the first man on Uranus," quipped Archer who flopped down on his bunk and took of his shoes.

The rest of the boys all laughed at Tripp's expense.

 _ **Altercation:**_

Minutes later Sullivan stood and walked out of the hut and headed for the nearest latrine.

As soon as he finished he turned and walked into the woods for a smoke.

"Going somewhere?" came a condescending voice.

Scott turned and found himself face to face with Gregory Tucker.

"What do you want?"

"Going to smoke I take it?"

"What's it to you?"

"You're a sorry excuse for a Khaki Scout Sullivan."

"Why? Cause I smoke?"

"Cause you flaunt rules."

"I'm one of the best qualified scouts around Tucker."

"Doesn't matter. You break rules."

Scott had to admit it: Tucker had a point.

"OK you got me."

"Oh yes I do."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Caught you red-handed."

"I'm not smoking Tucker."

"True, but you were going to and besides, you probably got cigarettes on you."

Scott was growing tired of the exchange.

"Look Tucker, what is your problem with me? I didn't do anything to you."

Gregory Tucker's expression hardened.

"You're here, that's enough."

"I'm a Khaki Scout like you, so I'm supposed to be here."

Tucker grew quiet for a moment and then said in a low voice, "Between you and me Sullivan, I wish you weren't here. In fact, I wish you would just quit the Khaki Scouts so you wouldn't be here."

"Well I'm no quitter Tucker…unlike you."

"What?" Tucker asked in genuine surprise, "How am I a quitter?"

"You quit on our friendship." Scott answered in a quiet, yet stern voice.

Tucker glowered, "It's because of your-," he stopped himself before he could say what was truly on his mind."

"Because of my what?"

"Nevermind."

"No, what were you going to say Tucker?"

Gregory Tucker held back from saying what was really on his mind and instead glared at Scott Sullivan.

"You know somethin' Sullivan…no one in our troop wants you around anyway."

"Why? Cause you convinced them? Cause they all listen to you? Cause they all follow you around like a bunch of hangers-on?"

"Cause they know that you're trouble. You're a rebel who flaunts rules and acts like he's above the law. You're not a team-player. You got a chip on your shoulder."

"So that makes me a rebel?"

"Face in Sullivan, I know exactly _why_ you're miserable. I know why you're been distant and down in the dumps."

"What are you-"

"Ya see Sullivan…I know."

"Know what?"

"About your parents."

Scott felt as if he'd been slapped in his face. In reality he should have known. Gregory Tucker lived by him and would more than likely know that his parents were in the verge of divorce.

"What do you know?"

"Oh I know a lot. As a matter of fact I know a lot more than you…like your parents will end up divorced like mine…serves you right too."

That did it. Scott charged straight at Tucker.

It was over in an instant.

Scott lay on face first on the ground. Tucker had move faster than he expected and tripped him. He came to the ground face first. Now his enemy straddled him. He was completely at the mercy of Tucker.

Tucker leaned in close and whispered into his ear, "I don't want you in this troop Sullivan…and the guys don't either…now, why don't you just take a hike."

Tucker pushed his face in the dirt, stood, and walked back to the tent.

Scott lay there, humiliated, and then rolled to his back. The waxing crescent of the Moon stared down at him.

 _Why don't you just take a hike?_ Tucker had asked him.

Scott smiled grimly at the Moon. "I'll do just that."


	5. Row, row, row your Boat

**Chapter 5: Row, row, row your boat**

 _ **Leaving:**_

 **Hut 11-**

In the darkness of the hut, something stirred. Seven boys slept soundly, two snoring softly, as the eighth quietly peeled the covers off of himself, swung his sock-clad feet onto the floor, and stood. Careful not to wake Tripp who slept on the bunk above him, Scott paused and listened for any sign of movement from the others: There was none.

He tip-toed to the next bunk. Bishop was on the top bunk while Doc was below. Bishop had his back turned to him. He scanned the bunk and saw what he was looking for: the wind-up radio. Bishop had been listening to the Moon mission's broadcast before he fell asleep. Scott reached out, took it from beside the sleeping boy's head, and replaced it with an envelope.

Bishop stirred and rolled over, Scott was now looking into the sleeping face of the boy. He froze, terrified that Bishop would wake up and spoil his plans. Seconds that seemed like minutes passed by. Bishop did not awake. Relieved, Scott went to his pack and withdrew his uniform.

He had another scare when Tripp, his paleness radiating in the darken hut, sat bolt upright in his bunk and began to speak.

An incomprehensible babble of words were spoken by the sleeping scout which were followed by the clear statement of, "OK, you can go to sleep now."

Shocked into amazement, Scott had to stifle a laugh at the whole scene, especially when Tripp laid back down immediately after talking.

Soon he has his pack on and was about to leave. Looking over his shoulder, he took one last look at the troop to make sure none of them were awake. Satisfied that all was quiet, he opened the door and walked out.

The fort was almost completely dark with the exception of the command tent which was currently staffed by one adult and a pair of scouts. There was some light near the fort's entrance as well as a light above the infirmary hut which had replaced the infirmary tent after the great storm of four years ago. It was currently occupied by two scouts: Salvador 'Sal the Scout' Di Greggo who was suffering from a bout of hay fever, and Herman 'Lucky' Luckner who wasn't living up to his nickname: he had gotten into some Poison Sumac while practicing his orienteering and pathfinding skills.

Scott continued on his way to the tree line. The fort was enclosed on three sides by a high, timber wall and on the fourth by the small lake which led into the ocean via a little river. Scott made his way into the trees that were enclosed inside the fort. Well known to many of the boys was a tree that had low braches that one could use to climb out of the fort. It was a good way of getting out and sneaking off. Unfortunately you couldn't use it to get back in. For that, you had to walk 30 yards north along the wall to the natural ditch that the wall had been built over.

All of this played into Scott's escape plan. He dropped his pack and began to climb. Once over the wall he moved off into the forest. Once inside the woods outside the fort he pulled out his lighter. Striking it, he used the flame to read the time on his watch: 11:51 p.m. almost midnight. DJ Leffingwell and his rendition of Revile was at 0600. That gave him plenty of time to leave his tracks for the others to follow. He figured that his troop would come after him so he decided to leave them a proverbial trail of breadcrumbs. The 'breadcrumbs' included both his and Blackie's cigarette butts form earlier. Additionally, he had the advantage of being on KP duty this morning. His troop mates would expect him to be gone by the time they woke up. All he had to do was hope that Chef Derderian, the scout who ran the morning shift, wouldn't say anything about his absence right away.

After an hour of aimless meandering through the woods he turned back. Upon reaching the ditch under the wall, he removed his uniform top and shimmied under the narrow gap, dirtying his undershirt a little which was of no concern to him. Back inside the fort he retrieved his pack and went on his way.

 _ **Petty Bugler:**_

 **18 July 1969, 0600, Fort Lebanon Parade Field-**

DJ Leffingwell, the primary petty bugler for the Hullabaloo, climbed up a 20 foot tower at the west end of the Parade Field. Once situated he put his bugle to his lips and sounded revile. As he roused his fellow campers, the Stars and Stripes were raised up the flagpole in front of the command hut by Jason Kent and Jack 'Black Jack' Blackwell.

 _ **A Great Day to be a Khaki Scout:**_

 **Scoutmaster's Hut # 2-**

At precisely 0600, Scoutmaster Ward emerged from his hut, lit his cigarette, and surveyed the scene. The sky, painted pink by the rising sun's reflection off low hanging clouds, met his vision. The smell of hotcakes, bacon and eggs, and hash browns wafted across to him from the mess hall. The sounds of birds chirping put him at ease. This was what he lived for. Instead of being cooped up inside a classroom teaching math to eight-graders, he was in what he considered to be his element.

He took in the sights, sounds, and smells of the summer morning. Here in the woods was summer. Summer was the scent of pine trees, campfires, and fresh grass. It was fresh babbling brooks, arrowhead, and trails. S'mores, capture the flag, and scraped knees too. This was adventure, this was all it was about, this _was_ scouting.

Ward smiled, it was a great day to be a Khaki Scout.

 _ **Time to get up:**_

 **Hut 11-**

Puddle shot up as soon as he heard the bugle. He looked around and saw that his fellow scouts were stirring…except for Trigger who had placed his pillow over his face and Archer who was snoring.

"Time to get up fellas," said Doc who was standing by his bunk getting dressed, "We need to get ready for breakfast."

"Yes mother," said Tripp who rubbed his eyes and yawned.

"First one up Doc?" asked Puddle.

"Nope, Sullivan was up before me," Doc said as he thumbed in the direction of Sullivan's bunk, "He has KP today so he had to get up early."

Tripp looked down at Sullivan's bunk.

"I didn't even hear him wake up," said Tripp.

"He probably had a morning smoke," said Tucker who made no effort to hide the disdain in his voice, "Wake up you two," he added as he nudged Archer's shoulder with his foot while at the same time buttoning up his shirt.

"Five more minutes," came Archer's tired voice.

Trigger looked down from his bunk at his brother and a once Archer's eyes opened.

Archer saw his brother's bespectacled face looking at him upside-down. They made eye contact and at once he sat up as his brother withdrew to his bunk.

Tucker raised an eyebrow and shook his head at this. _Those two are weird._ He thought to himself.

"I'm starving," Tripp said as he worked his way down to the floor.

"Why are you sleeping up there anyway?" asked Doc, "Shouldn't you be on the bottom bunk seeing as you're injured?"

"I prefer to sleep on top, I don't sleep well if someone in the top bunk is tossing and turning."

"How did you manage to get up there with your arm in a sling?"

"Sullivan helped me up."

"Wow, he actually did something worthwhile," said Tucker, "Too bad he's not here to help you get dressed."

"I can manage fine on my own."

"Then help yourself into a shirt," Tucker joked, "You're so thin that your ribs look like a xylophone and you need some sun too."

Tripp looked down at his ribs which indeed were plainly outlined under his skin. And he agreed that he needed sun; his skin was pasty white from too much time inside.

"Very funny," he answered as he reached into his pack for an undershirt.

As Bishop pulled on his uniform, he realized that something wasn't where he had left it the night before.

He said in a low voice, "Where's my radio?"

 _ **Breakfast:**_

 **The Mess Hall, 0630-**

"Where's Sullivan?" asked Doc, "Wasn't he on KP this morning? I didn't see him on the serving line."

"Maybe he's taking out the trash," said Tripp.

"Who cares?" asked Tucker, "He's probably doing something against the rules."

 _ **Cold Water Strait:**_

 **Five and a half hours earlier-**

Scott lowered his gear and himself into the canoe, untied the rope that had secured it to the boat dock, and cast off. It was a quiet night, calm, and with a slight breeze. The water made gentle lapping sounds as the tide pushed it into the little vessel. It was downright peaceful out here.

He took in the sounds of the night: crickets, a couple of bullfrogs, the sounds of the water, and the noise of the breeze in the trees. He looked up at the crescent moon and smiled. In a few days the Eagle module of Apollo 11 would touch down and soon after the first man would set foot on Earth's neighbor.

"Well here goes," he said to himself as he began paddling toward the little river that emptied into Cold Water Strait. He paddled, quietly at first, and then picked up his pace as left the fort behind. Earlier he had plotted his course off of his map of the isles. He would paddle from Land's End, north across the western end of the Strait, and make a brief stop at Stockhausen Island. After his pit stop, he would continue on to the southeastern portion of the Island of New Penzance.

Originally he had wanted to go back to Camp Ivanhoe but that was at the far eastern end of the island and he didn't want to paddle all the way there. Instead he would go through Rickety Shoals and make landfall at the mouth of the Stepping Stone River. He'd hide the canoe and get a few hours' sleep before he ventured into the woods. He gave himself plenty of time (almost the entirety of the 18th, all of the 19th, and most of the 20th) to reach Sam and Suzy's Moonrise Kingdom. If he was ahead of schedule, he would wait out in the woods within sight of the kingdom until the astronauts were about to set foot on the Moon.

Now he was entering the Strait. The breeze had picked up and fortunately was in his favor. He took off his cap and let the breeze ruffle his hair. He couldn't quite believe it, he actually did it! He had actually made good his escape. He was free!

Soon he was on Stockhausen Island. He made sure he avoided the small village of Fort Stockhausen and as such made landfall on a deserted beach on a spit of land that jutted from the island. He ate a banana that he had smuggled from the mess hall, relieved himself, had a smoke (he was now down to seven Lucky Strikes), and stretched his legs. Twenty minutes later he got back into his canoe and headed off.

The wind had really picked up. It had gotten worse the moment he had entered open water and now its speed was growing as he entered the treacherous Rickety Shoals. This part of the Strait was notorious for its jagged rocks that had been the cause of many capsizings over the years. Undaunted, Scott bravely paddled his way through the shoals.

"Row, row, row your boat," he sang aloud, "Gently down the stream, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily life is but a dream!"

He smiled; he was having fun. Things were looking up for Scott Brendon Sullivan…that is until the wave slammed both he and his canoe into a rock and everything went black.


	6. Pathfinders and Pursuers

**Chapter 6: Pathfinder and Pursuers**

 _ **Busy Morning:**_

 **Scoutmaster's Hut # 2-**

The first full day of the Hullabaloo marked the transition from the hectic pace of arrival day to the normal swing of things. This year's Hullabaloo was scheduled from the 17th to the 21st with the first and last days being fast-paced. The three middle days were sectioned off into different events for each troop and designed to occupy the scouts for most of each day.

Events included archery, target shooting, arts and crafts, orienteering, canoeing, three-legged races, and model rocketry. The latter was doubly important this year. There were also sporting competitions for baseball, football, basketball, dodge-ball, and swimming. There was tug-of-war, an obstacle course, and the biggest event: capture the flag. All of this was planned to culminate the night of Sunday, 20 July and the Moon landing. The momentous occasion would be celebrated with a cookout, bonfire, and party in honor of the three brave souls who were currently hurtling through space toward the Moon. Four television sets were going to be placed in the mess hall so all the boys could watch as the astronauts set foot on Earth's neighbor.

Scoutmaster Ward had a very busy day ahead of him. He had a meeting to attend with the other scoutmasters and camp staff. This was on top of a long day of arts and crafts, orienteering, and both basketball and dodge-ball practice.

Ward looked at his watch and saw that it was 7:25 a.m. He had five minutes to get to the meeting.

He stood up, grabbed his hat, and said to scoutmaster's Brown, Hutton, and Knight, "It's about that time."

The three finished doing what they were doing and followed Ward out.

 _ **Kitchen Police:**_

 **The Mess Hall-**

'Chef' Derderian was up to his elbows in dirty dishes. The entirety of the camp had come through the mess hall and left plenty to be cleaned. As head of the day shift he had to be up extra early in the morning to get the hall up and running. He was actually the head scout in charge though. A pair of adults managed the mess hall but Chef ran the detail of scouts for KP. He also did much of the cooking. He had always wanted to be a chef and was regarded as the best culinary scout in the state.

"Hey Chef, you want me to run over to Troop 55's hut and find out what happened to their guy?" asked Speedy Slocum.

Speedy was, like Dougie McDougall, Hiram Schwartz, and Wesley 'The Weasel' Watkins, unhappy about the fact that they had to cover down for Troop 55.

"Thanks but I'll go and see about it Speedy," he replied to the skinny, hyper-active scout, "It's my old troop and I'd like to meet the newest generation."

 _ **Old meets New:**_

 **Hut 11-**

A few minutes later Chef left the hall and walked across the fort until he found Troop 55 milling around their hut. There were seven members of the troop present. When he was in the troop there were 11. Unfortunately he had missed out on the great adventure when Sam Shakusky had hightailed it from Camp Ivanhoe to his and Suzy Bishop's Moonrise Kingdom. The day Sam left he had been called over to Fort Lebanon to lend his culinary skills at the Hullabaloo.

Missing out of the adventure was something that had bothered him since. He loved being able to cook for his fellow scouts and was happy to help back then as now, but darn it if he didn't regret it. Hearing the story from Skotak, Nickleby, Roosevelt and the rest of the gang had made him all the more regretful.

"I need an adventure," he said under his breath as he headed up to the boys of Troop 55.

The seven were about to head inside their hut when they saw Chef approach. Tucker addressed him.

"Let me guess, Sullivan was causing trouble."

"No."

"Smoking?"

"No."

"He got into a fight with one of the other KPs?"

"Gee, you really don't like him do you," interrupted Puddle.

"You don't know him like I do Puddle."

"Actually it's none of those things," Chef said to the younger scouts, "He never showed up."

The boys all looked from one to the other.

"That's not good," said Doc.

"Not good is right," replied Tripp.

"That figures!" said Tucker, "He's probably out running around in the woods doing who-knows what."

"We we're able to manage this morning but it was a little tough on the other KPs."

"I'm sure Scoutmaster Ward would just love to hear about this."

"I wouldn't go that far."

"Oh? Why not?"

"Sometimes its easier handling things like this without going to a scoutmaster. If Sullivan is acting up," Chef paused and surveyed Troop 55, "Then his friends can bring him back to the straight and narrow."

"HA!" responded Tucker, "Friends? Sullivan doesn't have any friends."

"I'm his friend," Puddle said.

"Can it twerp," chided Archer.

"Be that as it may," said Chef, "But Khaki Scouts always abide by the Scout Laws."

The boys got quiet. Finally Bishop spoke up.

"We'll find him and talk to him about it."

Tucker added, "Yeah, we can have him do KP for the rest of the Hullabaloo."

"I'll leave that up to Scoutmaster Ward," Chef said and walked off.

As he walked back to the mess hall, Chef came across Scoutmaster Ward and a number of other scoutmasters who were returning to their own huts.

"Good morning Scoutmaster Ward!"

Scoutmaster Ward saw him and came over smiling. He clasped his hand on Chef's shoulder and gave him friendly squeeze.

"Great to see you Chef. I saw you earlier and was wanting to see how you've been."

"I'm good Sir and you?"

"We're at the Hullabaloo, what could be better?"

"Not much," Chef said then added, "Except having the old Troop back together."

Ward smiled thoughtfully. Chef was right. There was something special about all the troops he had led but nothing quite matched the feeling of his first iteration of Troop 55. Chef and the rest of the boys were special. All of his boys in his present troop were but there was something extra special about the Troop 55 of four and five years previously.

Sam Shakusky.

The odd, yet always respectful Sam Shakusky had brought his first troop closer together than he had ever imagined possible. Unfortunately Chef had missed out and for that he was sorry.

"All the boys are special Chef but to be honest, you all were something more. I'm sorry you had to miss out on the big adventure."

"It's okay Sir. I got hand-picked to help out here."

"True."

"Well Sir, I got to head back and make sure that the KPs haven't decided to empty the kitchen."

They both laughed and parted ways.

 _ **The Old Troop:**_

Ward was glad to be here with his present troop but he couldn't help but miss the old Troop 55.

The boys had gone their separate ways since then. Some had even left the Khaki Scouts. Sam officially left for good after he had ran off. He was now a junior police officer serving under his foster father Captain Sharp. Redford stayed on for another year before he left. He was now working at his father's garage/gas station. Nickleby, the most lackadaisical of the troop and the biggest uniform violator, left when Redford did. He was working part-time as an apprentice mechanic with Redford. Paneagle, who had generously donated his famous club, was a junior scoutmaster with Junior Khaki Scout Troop 47. Izod, the quietest scout, was running the night shift in the command tent. Skotak was in charge of Supply and Resources for the Hullabaloo. Lazy-Eye, no longer wearing the eyepatch but still bearing the nickname, was a junior scoutmaster with Junior Khaki Scout Troop 59. Gadge was also a junior scoutmaster and was running the model rocketry event. Deluca currently was the head lifeguard and taught swim lessons to those scouts who couldn't swim. And Roosevelt was now helping run the obstacle course.

Ward was thankful that all of his original troops were back in the same general area again. He hoped that he could get them together again before the Hullabaloo ended.

 _ **Gone:**_

 **Hut 11-**

"Anybody seen my radio?" asked Bishop as he walked into the hut.

"Wasn't it on your bunk? I saw you had it there last night," asked Tripp.

"It's gone."

"Gone like Sullivan," said Archer.

"Where do you think he went to?" asked Trigger who removed his glasses and wiped dust from them with a cloth.

"Well he wasn't doing KP, that's for sure," said Doc.

"Guys," came Puddle's concern-tinged voice.

"Maybe he's trying to buy something from Supply and Resources," said Tripp.

"Guys?" Puddle repeated.

"He could have woke up feeling sick," said Trigger.

"And went to the Infirmary," added Archer.

"Guys?" Puddle said a little louder this time.

"Maybe he and Blackie and the rest of the Black Sheep decided to go screw around somewhere," said Tucker.

"Guys!" Puddle said loudly.

"What is it?" asked Archer with barely concealed irritation.

"Yeah, what is it?" came Trigger.

"I don't think Sullivan is here," Puddle said.

"No kidding genius," said Archer who rolled his eyes at Puddle's statement.

"It's pretty obvious that he is not presently in this hut," Trigger said sarcastically.

"Well neither is his ruck sack," said Puddle who answered the non-identical duo in a condescending tone.

That statement got everyone's attention.

"Guys, we've got things to do today," reminded Tucker.

"Guys, I think Sullivan is gone," said Doc.

"Gone? What do you mean gone? Like he left?"

"Yes."

"Like he vanished?" Trigger said.

"Or disappeared?" added Archer.

"Yes, that is exactly what I think."

"Why the hell would he do that?" asked Tripp.

"Gee I wonder…" Doc said as he turned his head toward Tucker.

"What are you looking at me for Doc?"

"It's no secret that you two dislike each other. Maybe Sullivan decided he couldn't stand being around you and left."

"You're not exactly his friend wither Doc."

"True. None of us are, are we?"

"I like him," interjected Puddle.

"He's not that bad," said Bishop.

"But can anyone say that Sullivan is his friend? Has he palled around with any of us outside of Khaki Scouts?"

"Tucker, Weren't you guys friends before?" asked Tripp.

"Were…not anymore."

"Why not," asked Bishop.

"Yeah," said Puddle.

"He's…he's just…he's got problems," was the best reason Tucker could offer.

"Problems?"

"Yeah, look if he really left then where did he go?"

"Good question," said Doc, "We know that no one here is his friend and we know that you two got into it last night."

"What? What do you mean? What are you talking about Doc?"

"I saw the two of you arguing last night when I went to fill up my canteen."

'You got into an argument?" asked Tripp.

"Yeah, so what?"

"Why?"

"It's none of your business. We had a disagreement and that was that."

"Hmm, maybe that's why he left." Doc said.

"Think he ran away?" asked Trigger to his twin.

Archer replied, "Maybe he pulled a Shakusky."

Everyone stopped talking for a moment and contemplated the possibility.

The twins then looked each other in the eyes. They nodded to one another and then went to work.

The rest of the boys watched as Trigger and Archer looked around at Sullivan's bunk. Again they looked at each other and seemed to communicate without speaking.

A few seconds later, Archer spoke, "Sullivan had to get up extra early for KP."

"That gave him an opening to take off without being seen," said Trigger.

"He took Bishop's radio."

"Perhaps to listen to the weather reports."

"Then he left."

Archer's gaze went to the hut's door.

"He then walked out," Trigger said as he went to the door and opened it. He looked at the ground and then back at his brother.

 _ **Letter:**_

At that moment Tripp noticed something under Bishop's bunk. It was the envelope that Sullivan had left for him. When Bishop awoke, he must've accidentally knocked it to the floor.

"Hey Bishop, here's an envelope with your name on it."

"Really?"

Tripp handed it to Bishop who opened it and pulled out the letter. He read it aloud.

 _Dear Bishop,_

 _I am borrowing your radio for a few days. Sorry for not asking you if it was okay but I don't think you or the guys would have approved of my 'mission'. I will take care of it and buy you a new one if it gets lost or damaged._

 _Yours truly,_

 _Scott B. Sullivan_

 _P.S. I will repay you with lunch after the Hullabaloo._

 _"_ He ran away… _with_ my radio!"

"Oh this is going to be good," said Tucker with a humorless grin.

"Ready to do your thing brother?" Archer asked Trigger.

Trigger smiled and bounded out the door.

"Fellas," said Archer, "You're about to see the best Pathfinder Scout around in action."

 _ **Shipwrecked:**_

 **The Island of New Penzance-**

The sound of the tide woke Scott from his slumber. He opened his eyes and saw sand. He slowly turned his head and looked around. He was alive! That was good. He thought he was a goner when the wave hit him. Sitting up, he looked out and saw the lighthouse at Fort Stockhausen to the southwest. That meant that he had made it to New Penzance! The tide must have pushed him up onto the beach.

He stood up on wobbly legs and then fell back down. He was sore all over and noticed that he had scrapes and bruises on his arms and legs. His cap was gone and the left sleeve of his top was almost sheared away. By looking at the scrapes, he figured that he must've slid into a rock while being carried by the tide. That was what must have caused the damage to his uniform.

As it was hanging by a thread he decided to tear it off completely. It came off with a ripping sound. He didn't' like the way his undershirt sleeve looked jutting out from under the top. He unbuttoned his uniform top and took it off. Next he pulled his undershirt over his head and proceeded to knock the sand off of it. Then he reached for his Swiss Army knife, which thankfully was still in its case strapped to his belt, and proceeded to cut away the sleeves. Next he brushed the sand off of his front and back before doing the same with his legs.

Satisfied that he had removed the majority of sand from himself, he put his undershirt and uniform top back on. He looked around and saw what was left of his canoe which had come to rest about 100 feet down the beach. There was something else there too…his pack!

Scott sprinted off toward it and was pleased to find that the contents were still dry. The water had not breached the heavy-duty trash bag that contained his gear. He reached in and fished out dry socks and his spare hiking boots. Finally he checked Bishops' wind up radio.

The voice of a newscaster came in loud and clear and explained to the radio audience that Apollo 11's command module was currently on schedule to the Moon. He smiled, despite the crossing's setback everything was coming together. He reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew his cigarette case. Thankfully it was water-proofed.

 _ **Breadcrumbs:**_

 **Fort Lebanon-**

Trigger scanned the premises in an attempt to determine which way Sullivan had gone. The main entrance was ruled out: it was too well lit and led to the main road. If Sullivan had wanted to run away he would certainly want to avoid others. Trigger doubted that the escapee would want to risk being seen. There was the lakeside of the camp and then there was the wall. He knew that there was a way out of the camp next to the wall and figured that Sullivan would have went that way. He was known to wander into the trees to smoke so it made sense that he would go that way, so he followed.

The other boys followed behind the pathfinder and watched him in action.

"He's going into the woods," said Doc.

"He must be going to the tree," said Archer.

"What tree?" asked Puddle.

"There's this tree that has really low branches that a person could use to climb out."

"Oh."

Trigger walked into the tree line and paused. He looked at the ground and saw what appeared to be footprints in the dirt. Other scouts could have come that way true, but what were the odds? Sullivan was missing and it was logical that he would have come this way. Trigger pushed on and came upon the tree.

He climbed up and went over the wall.

"Well, I guess we better go after him," said Tucker who was next up the tree. The other boys followed suit except Tripp whose arm prevented him from climbing.

Trigger stood at the base of the wall and saw the indention of shoe prints in the dirt. They were pushed in enough to show that someone had dropped down from the wall.

"He was here," Trigger said.

"Find tracks?" asked Bishop.

"Yup," Trigger replied before heading off toward the trees. He moved slowly and followed a line of grass that looked like it had been trampled recently. He stopped a moment later and saw a cigarette butt lying on the ground.

"What is it?" asked Archer, "Find something?"

Trigger reached down and picked up the butt.

"Lucky Strikes?"

Trigger held the butt saw what was left of the Lucky Strikes emblem on the cigarette. He looked to his brother and nodded, then went into the woods.

The rest of the boys kept a little bit of distance from Trigger in order to give him the space he needed to conduct his investigation.

Trigger passed by another discarded Lucky Strike and a few footprints. There were some discarded candy wrappers along the way and finally some more tracks that led up to a large stone. On it was a faded print that looked as though someone had stepped on it and went over. He followed and saw that the prints continued.

This was easy he thought and smiled to himself. Then a thought hit him: Breadcrumbs; It was too easy. Sullivan was trained as a pathfinder too. There was no way he'd be this careless. Something wasn't right. A moment later Trigger's thought was confirmed. The tracks ended. Trigger looked back at the last track which was about 15 meters from the stone. He bent down and saw that the heels of the tracks seemed to be pushed up as if someone had stepped back into them. He looked at his own prints and noticed that the same effect was missing. Sullivan had stopped and walked backward. He had been misled!

"Dammit!" he swore loudly.

"What is it?" asked Tucker.

Trigger looked at Tucker and then to his brother.

"What?" Archer asked.

The twins stared at each other and made gestures involving both facial expressions and hands.

"What the hell are you two doing?" an annoyed Tucker asked.

"Sullivan came this way," Trigger said.

"Yeah, no kidding."

"But he stopped."

"And?"

"I can't believe I fell for it!"

"Fell for what?"

Trigger explained his discovery to the troop in two words: "Diversion tactics."

Archer looked his brother in the eyes and replied, "Good thinking."


	7. The Island of New Penzance

**Chapter 7: The Island of New Penzance**

 _ **Head start:**_

 **The Island of New Penzance-**

A warm and gentle breeze made Scott's progress all the more enjoyable. There was the sound of the surf hitting the land, a gull's cry from above, and the ruffling of the gentle breeze that filled his ears. It was late morning on the 18th and he had plenty of time to make it to his destination. He knew he could have left a day later and still had time but he needed to get away. Even now on the island he could hardly believe that he had done it. He smoked a cigarette in celebration of his crossing. He now had six left.

He figured that his absence would have been already noticed. Chef would have spoken to the troop about him. From there his troop mates would sooner or later realize that he had left. He hoped that his trail of bread crumbs would have been enough to throw them off his trail, at least for a while. There was one major problem to this: Trigger McMillan. The taller of the McMillan twins was considered to be the best pathfinder around and had in fact imparted some of his wisdom to Scott.

It was only a matter of time before Trigger put two and two together and came to the conclusion that he had been misled. After that the troop would probably do one of two things: 1. Tell Scoutmaster Ward who would then have to decide if he was going to let Commander Pierce know or keep quiet about it and look for him on his own. Or 2. The troop could try and keep it quiet and try to figure out where he had gone.

Scott wasn't sure which option the others would take. If they told Scoutmaster Ward they would have the Hullabaloo ruined because of the search party that would no doubt be formed. Also, Scoutmaster Ward could get into a lot of trouble for letting a scout go missing again. Of course the scouts would probably like to go on a search party to bring back their wayward troop mate. _Capture,_ was more like it. Scott could imagine Tucker leading his fellow troops through the woods to hunt him down in gleeful emulation of Redford.

He only hoped that if the others went looking for him that they would think he had either snuck off into town or chose to return to Camp Ivanhoe. In the case of the latter, all Scoutmaster Ward would need to do was get ahold of Jed and have him fly him in.

Either way, Scott knew he had the advantage of a head start. With that in mind he left the beach and entered the woods.

 _ **Phone Call # 1:**_

 **Stone Cove-**

Captain Duffy Sharp returned to his spot on the pier and looked at his fishing companion.

"Anything biting Edgar?"

The old fisherman looked at Sharp and replied, "Nah."

"Just my luck."

It was Sharp's luck that he had had to leave his rod and reel for an hour and a half as he had to drive all the way to the east end of the island. Duty called at Gerry's Cottage. The 18th Century cottage, named for its builder and original occupant Gerald Thatcher Monroe, was now a quaint bed and breakfast owned and operated by a descendent.

The descendent, Myra Hobson nee Monroe and her husband had reported trouble out at the cottage. Trouble of a furry kind.

"Those mutts of the Willards have been digging up my rose bushes again," lamented Myra.

Sharp looked down at the mess of flowers and saw the paw prints of a large dog. The dog had evidently been trying to bury a bone that lay not too far off.

"That mutt was about to bury that bone," Harold Hobson said while pointing at the bone, "But I scared him off."

Myra joined in and explained how the Willard's never seemed to care what their dogs did. It was obvious from the paw prints that there was only one culprit but that did not deter either from accusing all the furry members of the Willard family.

After the two had gone for a full five minutes about their rose bushes and the dogs, Sharp told them that he would go and talk to the Willard's and get things taken care of. Here on New Penzance there was little in the way of crime so Sharp was forced into essentially becoming a mediator between the islands various denizens.

He spoke to Archie Willard who in turn told him that the Hobson's were dumping their trash in the woods.

Sharp told him that wasn't illegal but admitted that they should dispose of the trash by burning it instead of leaving it out in the woods for Archie to come upon.

Satisfied that he had de-escalated the situation, he returned to the police station.

Now he could relax.

Five seconds later his phone rang.

Just his luck.

 _ **Phone Call # 2:**_

"Person to person from Bridgeport," came the voice of Becky Ward.

Bridgeport. That could mean only one person.

Sharp rolled his eyes and spoke into the phone, "Accept."

A moment later an officious voice came across the line.

"Captain Sharp?"

"Social Services?"

"I am calling to make my periodic inquiry into Sam Shakusky."

"Uh-huh."

"Is he well?"

"Uh-Huh."

On the other end of the line, Social Services rolled her eyes. After four years, Duffy Sharp still gave her these two syllable responses.

"I see, can you elaborate on his well-being?"

"Uh-Huh."

"I see…is he well?"

"Yes."

"Has he been enjoying his summer?"

"Yes…well he has been working with me and learning to drive."

Social Services made a note of this and remarked at how time had flown. It seemed like only yesterday that Sam Shakusky had been placed with Sharp and now he was learning to drive.

"Is he following all traffic laws?"

"Yes he is."

The exchange went on for another minute when Social Services asked, "Is the boy available?"

Sharp looked out the window and down the pier. A pair of sixteen year olds were walking toward the station, hand in hand; one carrying a book and the other an easel with painting supplies.

"He's not in yet Social Services."

"Very well. I shall keep in touch."

"Uh-Huh."

Social Service hung up the phone and though about the subject of the call. Sam Shakusky had been the center of her greatest challenge in her now over thirty year career. Despite all of the adverse incidents that had gone on four year past, she was pleased by his progress. The young man was growing up to be a mature and resourceful person who she knew would succeed at whatever he set out to do. Against her normally stern demeanor, she smiled.

 _ **An Almost Chance Encounter in the Woods:**_

 **The Woods-**

Scott closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and inhaled the pine-scented forest. The noise of chirping birds filled the forest.

The _Chip-Burr_ of a Scarlet Tanager called out from the tree tops. This was soon followed by a flash of scarlet as it darted out of its nest and flew over Scott's head, chirping as it went.

Other avians sang out: the sharp _tik_ of an Indigo Bunting, a _queeleep_ from a Great Crested Flycatcher, and a s _witcherit_ from a Connecticut Warbler all filled the forest.

Scott loved it. There was nothing like the feeling of being on the woods on a summer's day. Out here on his own, he was a part of something greater than himself; he was part of nature. A boy out in the woods on his own rite of passage. It was perfect.

 **Along the trail to Cape Cooper-**

Captain Sharp drove along a dirt trail that wound its way through the woods toward Cape Cooper. The cape, located on the western end of the island, was the site of his latest call: a boating accident. Apparently a summer visitor had had a little too much to drink and ended up piloting his boat into the dock. Word had come that the boat's owner was unhurt but that his wife had taken a nasty fall and may have a concussion. With this news, Sharp had gotten a hold of Jed to have the pilot fly in and take the lady to ST. Jack's hospital for treatment.

He guided his police car to the left and gave it a little more gas as the road grew straighter.

 **The Woods-**

Scott was taken out of his reverie by the sound of an engine approaching. He looked around and could see through the trees that he was about 50 feet from a trail. Fearing that he'd be seen, he ducked down behind a fallen tree for cover.

Peering over the tree he saw a car driving down the trail. On closer inspection he saw that it was a police car. He watched as it passed him by and felt certain that there was no way that he could be seen. Despite this, he decided to do his best to stay away from the roads.

A few seconds later he heard a loud pop.

 **Captain Sharp-**

The loud pop that caught Captain Sharp's attention was his front passenger side tire popping. The car pulled to the right and he let up on the gas, allowing the car to come to a halt on the very edge of the trail.

As soon as he came to a stop, Sharp brought his forehead to the steering wheel and sighed.

"What next?" he asked himself.

Seconds later he was outside inspecting the tire. There was a tear in the side of it. He looked around and saw something back the way he came. He walked toward it and found it to be a piece of scrap metal. The scrap must've fallen off of the back of someone's truck, most likely Sheldon Mitchum's. Old Sheldon had recently helped to tear down an old tin-roofed shed that was on Collins' farm near Yeoman Lane. Sheldon would have had to have driven it all this way to the small dump that was on the Island's west side.

"Just my rotten luck," Duffy Sharp said and headed back to his car.

 **Scott Sullivan-**

Scott watched as the policeman, who could only be Captain Sharp, examined something on the road. Everyone in the troop knew about Captain Sharp. About how he had gone in search of Sam and Suzy, that he had braved a thunderstorm to stop the pair from jumping off of ST. Jack's Church, and how he had later gained custody of Sam.

Scott saw the policeman open up his trunk and pull out a spare tire and some tools. He was tempted to go over and help him but he knew that if he did that, he would be apprehended and taken back to Fort Lebanon, the Moon mission dashed.

Instead he knelt behind the tree and watched.

 **Captain Sharp-**

Sharp loosened and then removed the lug nuts from the tire. He then placed the jack under the car and was about to raise it when he stopped. He had a funny feeling. He listened intently: the forest was quiet. There were no birds chirping and the insects seemed to have stopped their buzzing. The instincts he had gained from many years both as a city cop on the mainland and as the only law enforcement on the island kicked in. He stood up and scanned the woods. He was being watched.

 **Scott Sullivan-**

Scott froze when he saw Captain Sharp stand up and look around. Somehow the policeman knew he was being watched. Sharp turned his attention in Scott's direction and the scout was certain he was done for. Thankfully a hawk, probably a Northern Goshawk, cried out its _wheeee-ah._ That was enough to catch the policeman's attention. This gave enough time for Scott to duck down.

 **Captain Sharp-**

Sharp turned his attention to the sky above him and watched as a hawk circled around and then dove down toward the edge of the trail. It swooped in low, latched onto its prey, in this case a small chipmunk, and soared back into the sky.

Sharp smiled grimly as the bird made off with its bounty. That was nature, kill or be killed. He looked back into the woods. Nothing stirred and the feeling of being watched crept back up on him. He debated walking into the woods for a look but decided against it. It was probably nothing but an opossum or something. He turned his attention back to the tire and went to work.

Once the tire was changed out with the spare, Captain Sharp reached for his CB radio and called the station.

 _ **An Artist and his Model:**_

 **New Penzance Police Station-**

"The light of the sun filtered through the jungle canopy and softly illuminated the point at which the path spilt. Faced with the fork in the road, Caroline reached inside of her vest and withdrew a small object. She flipped shiny coin into the air and said 'tails left, heads right.' The coin hit the ground, bounced once, and came to a stop. Picking it up, she smiled and walked her new path."

Static from the radio caused Suzy to pause her adventure with Caroline. She set _To the River's Source_ down and listened as Captain Sharp's voice called in.

"Deputy Shakusky, come in over," Sharp said.

"It's for you," Suzy said to Deputy Shakusky who looked up from his canvas.

Deputy Shakusky, actually Junior Deputy Sam Shakusky, walked across to the radio and picked up the headset.

"This is Deputy Shakusky over."

"Deputy Shakusky, relay to Jed that I'm going to be a little late in getting to Cape Cooper…had a little tire trouble. He can take the patient as soon as he can. He doesn't need to wait for me, over."

"Roger Captain Sharp…will do over."

"Out."

Suzy watched as Sam changed frequencies and hailed Jed who had just lifted off from ST. Jack Wood.

"Jed, be advised that Captain Sharp will be a little late in arriving at Cape Cooper, over."

"That's a roger Deputy Shakusky, over," replied Jed.

"One more thing. Captain Sharp said to go ahead and take the patient as soon as you can even if he's not there, over."

"That's a good copy Deputy Shakusky, over."

"Have a good flight, out."

Suzy smiled at Sam as he retook his seat and picked up his paint brush.

"I'll try to keep still," she said and picked her book up from her lap.

Sam gazed at her and touched his brush to his palate, "Continue."

 _ **The Astronauts and Scott's Progress:**_

 **Scott Sullivan-**

Sullivan breathed a sigh of relief as Captain Sharp finished and went back on his way. Confident that he was once again alone, he stood up and continued on.

He realized that he was making good time and could probably make it to his destination by nightfall but he decided against it. What fun would it be if he finished his adventure so quickly? Instead he decided to find a place to set up camp.

An hour and a half later he came across an intermittent stream that wasn't marked on his map. This wasn't unusual in itself but rather a welcome surprise. He saw that there was a small hill near it that had a flat top. He inspected the area, making sure that there were no snake holes or other such hazards.

Once satisfied, he opened his pack and set about making camp. Soon he had his tent up and his cooking supplies out. He thought about trying to catch and cook something but decided against it; he had brought food with him. He built a small fire, purified some water with some water purification tablets, and cooked some canned beef stew. He fixed up some Tang (the same drink that the Astronauts would be drinking on their mission) and wound up Bishop's radio. He ate his dinner, smoked another Lucky Strike (he was down to five), and capped it off with more Tang.

Walter Cronkite's voice came over the airwaves bringing listeners updates on the mission's progress.

Apollo 11 was now approximately 175,000 miles from Earth and 48,000 miles from the Moon. All systems were looking good and shortly a live broadcast from the module was going to air on TV. Scott sighed in slight disappointment as he realized that he wouldn't see the landing. This was something that he wrestled with. Had he stayed at the Hullabaloo, he would have been able to watch it in the mess hall on TV, granted he'd have to vie with everyone else for a good spot.

However he understood that this was all part of his plan. His adventure depended on it. He knew that there would be film taken of it and if years later he was asked where he was when the landing took place, he would have something more interesting to say than that he was in front of a television. He would be able to say that he went on a journey of his own where he could find his own adventure with the astronauts.


	8. Advice, Supplies, and Canoes

**Chapter 8: Advice, Supplies, and Canoes**

 _ **Realization:**_

 **The Boat Dock-**

Twenty minutes after realizing that they had been duped, and at the exact same time that Scott was coming round back to consciousness, the boys, having met back up with Tripp, now stood at the boat dock. An empty canoe berth greeted them.

"He actually did it. He actually ran away," Doc said with admiration, "I didn't know he had it in him."

"Boy Scoutmaster Ward is gonna flip!" said Tripp.

"Yeah but not only that, but this could mess up the whole Hullabaloo!" Bishop lamented.

"Oh no," said Puddle who then looked at the skinny Donald Tripp and added, "Hey Tripp, you have some strings hanging from your shirt."

Tripp looked down at his shirt, "Where?"

"Oh wait," Puddle said and stifled a giggle, "Those are your arms."

"Funny, Howdy-Doody, funny." Tripp relied to the short redhead while being glad that Puddle's levity had lightened the situation.

"OK, so what do we do?" asked Archer.

"We'll have to tell Scoutmaster Ward," Trigger said, "There really is no other choice."

"Are you kidding me?"

"Well what would you do?"

"I know what we could do," said Bishop.

"What?" asked Tucker.

"We can talk to someone who understands."

"Like who?"

Bishop answered with a grin.

 **The Command Hut-**

The command hut was currently staffed by two signal scouts, Ryan Cartwright and Danny Morris, and overseen by a scoutmaster from Junior Khaki Scout Troop 60. The scoutmaster was currently out of the hut which left the two to their own devices.

Cartwright was busy studying up for his Cartography Accomplishment Button while Morris was listening in on the Apollo 11 Mission. The signal scouts had the privilege of being able to listen to the mission's progress while on their duty.

The screen door to the hut opened and both boys turned their heads to see the newcomer.

"Is Scoutmaster Mazursky around?" asked Tucker.

"Nope," answered Cartwright, "Need me to relay a message?"

"No, I'll just wait for him."

"Suit yourself."

Tucker exited the hut and went over along the wall where the rest of Troop 55, sans Sullivan, was waiting. They were currently watching as Troop 54 took their turns don the zip line that spanned the parade field. Another troop had its scouts running relays around the field, while another was being instructed on model rocketry by Junior Scoutmaster Gadge.

"Well, what did he say?" asked Doc.

"Nothing, he wasn't in."

"Now what?"

"Well we have to make a decision: go and take part in the events like we're supposed to or go and find Sullivan."

"I vote we find him," said Trigger.

"Still sore he outsmarted you brother?" asked Archer who was itching to get onto the archery lanes.

"As a matter of fact, yes."

 _ **Hypothetical Scenario:**_

"Hey campers!" came an authoritative voice, "Why aren't you participating in anything? Hop to it!"

The boys turned and saw the person that they were looking for: Scoutmaster Mazursky AKA Cousin Ben.

Ben Mazursky, actual cousin to Troop 55's former member Skotak, their mothers being sisters, walked toward them.

"Good morning Sir," said Tripp who saluted his superior with his good arm.

Cousin Ben returned the salute, "Are you keeping that arm in the sling rested?" he turned to Doc and said, "Is he keeping it rested?"

"Yes Sir."

"Good, now why aren't you all taking part in the events?"

"Sir," Puddle spoke up, "We have a question for you."

"Quiet you!" whispered Archer who gave him a nudge.

"What is it?" asked Cousin Ben.

"Well Sir," started Tucker, "We uh, we uh, have uh, a prob-issue! Uh…"

"Come on trooper, spit it out."

"Sir, remember Fieldmate Shakusky?" asked Bishop.

"Fieldmate Shakusky? He's asking me if I remember Fieldmate Shakusky. Of course I remember Fieldmate Shakusky…why?"

"Well Sir," said Tucker, "It's like this…we know a guy who…well."

"I said spit it out."

Trigger spoke up, "We have a hypothetical scenario."

Archer jumped in, "What if a scout went off?"

"Went off?" asked Cousin Ben.

"Yes Sir," said Trigger, "Suppose someone decided they didn't want to be here."

"And left," added Archer.

"And deliberately misled his troopmates."

"To throw them off his trail."

"And before long his scoutmaster would realize it."

"And if that happened, the Hullabaloo would have to be halted so he could be found."

Cousin Ben kept turning his head from one boy to the other as they conducted their exchange in a rapid-fire manner.

The twins looked at each other, faced Cousin Ben, and spoke in unison, "Then what would you do?"

Cousin Ben studied the two and noticed their matching last names.

"Are you two brothers?"

"Yes," the twins said as one.

"They're non-identical twins," said Tripp.

"No kidding genius," said Tucker.

"Boys," said Cousin Ben, "Follow me."

The boys followed Cousin Ben across the interior of the fort. As they walked, the boys watched as scouts from other troops took part in a variety of activities: There was Troop 43 getting lessons in fieldcraft, the small fry of Junior Khaki Scout Troop 61 (including both Rudy and Murray Bishop) being taught about poisonous plants and dangerous animals. Bishop looked over to his two younger siblings and waved at them. The two Junior Khakis waved back.

"So if a scout ran away he would have taken off at night when everyone was asleep," Cousin Ben said.

"Yes Sir," answered Doc.

"And he would have a big head start wouldn't he?"

"Yes Sir."

"Now if I had a missing troopmate, I'd go look for him."

"Understandable," answered Tucker who was really beginning to relish the thought of tracking Scott Sullivan down.

"I would want to make sure he's safe."

"So would we," said Tripp who quickly corrected himself as per the hypothetical situation, "I mean I think anybody would want to find their missing scout."

Archer glared at him for his slip up.

Cousin Ben continued as if he hadn't noticed the slip, "The lad's scoutmaster would need to know."

The boys didn't like the sound of that.

"Would the scoutmaster really need to know?" asked Tucker, "I mean what if the scout's troopmates could find him?"

"Yeah, like what happened with Fieldmate Shakusky!" said Puddle who earned an immediate sock to the shoulder from Archer.

Cousin Ben stopped. The boys halted as well. They were now at an exit that led out of the enclosure of the fort proper.

"Let's get something straight," Cousin Ben said and then looked at Tucker, "Do you want to get something straight?"

"Yes Sir!" replied Tucker.

Cousin Ben looked at the troop, "He wants to get something straight. Do you want to get something straight?"

The boys replied that they did.

"Good," Cousin Ben said. "If something like what happened with Fieldmate Shakusky happened again then the whole camp would have to be sent out to find him. Do you know what that means campers?"

Bishop raised his hand.

"It means that the Hullabaloo would get messed up and we'd probably miss out on a lot of things."

"And the Moon landing," added Tripp.

"Do you want that to happen?" asked Cousin Ben.

A resounding 'NO!' was the answer.

"Then if a scout ran off and his fellow scouts wanted to bring him back then they would have to do it on their own."

The boys got quiet. Finally Trigger broke the silence.

"How would someone go about that?"

"Scouts could practice their orienteering and pathfinding skills."

"Interesting."

"Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go and get back to the command hut. But hypothetically, if anyone wanted to go and look for a hypothetically missing scout, they would want to think about this long and hard."

The boys looked at each other and seconds later they nodded in agreement.

Tucker spoke for the troop, "The boys in this hypothetical scenario want to look for the hypothetically missing scout."

Cousin Ben looked at Tucker with a cross expression, "I said think about this long and hard."

The boys watched as he walked off. They stayed silent for a few moments. Finally one spoke up.

"So, are we going to go look for him?" Puddle ventured.

All eyes turned to the little scout.

"Look for him?" asked Doc, "Well I guess we really have no choice unless we want the Hullabaloo stopped."

"Yes. We take Cousin Ben's advice and look for him. That's what the old troop did when Shakusky left, so why shouldn't we?" asked Bishop.

"As long as no one gets stabbed in the back with lefty scissors." said Tripp.

"We could find him because…" said Tucker who paused and put an arm around Trigger's shoulders, "We have _The_ best pathfinder around…don't we?"

Trigger was silent for a moment and then said, "Cousin Ben gave us a valid reason for going off into the woods. We're scheduled to do a lot of things today and orienteering isn't one of them but we could see if Scoutmaster Ward will let us switch todays' stuff with orienteering. Then all we do is go off to _learn_ pathfinder skills and find Sullivan."

"I like it," said Tucker, "And that way we get to bring him back to face the music."

 _ **Change of Plans:**_

 **Scoutmaster's Hut # 2-**

Tucker and Puddle were lucky that Scoutmaster Ward was back in his hut after being busy for most of the morning. Tucker told the rest of the gang to wait at their own hut while he and Puddle went to talk to their scoutmaster.

"Oh good, you're here. I want to get all of you onto the obstacle course."

"Actually Sir," began Tucker innocently, "We were thinking it would nice to change up the schedule so we can do orienteering and pathfinding."

"Don't you want to do the course?"

We could, but we have the rest of the Hullabaloo."

"But we're scheduled to do it in an hour."

"True but we could still switch with someone."

"I don't know why you want to switch days so bad but I suppose we could," Ward said, "Why all the interest in pathfinding and orienteering all of a sudden?"

"Sir," began Tucker in his most cheerful tone, "As you know Puddle is new here and this is his first time in the woods. There aren't a lot of trees back in Albuquerque so we want to get him spun up before Capture the Flag."

"Yes Sir, there's a lot of scrub back home but no trees," said Puddle, "I think I need some practice in the woods."

"Well that's good initiative Puddle, I like that. Let me check with one of the other scoutmasters and see if we can switch."

Ward got up and walked out and went to the next hut. A few minutes later he returned with good news. "Scoutmaster Jennings said that his boys are just itching to do the obstacle course and rocketry so you can go ahead and path find."

"Great!" said Tucker.

"But be leery out there okay? Don't roll any ankles or get bit by anything or fall in a lake."

"We'll be okay Sir."

"I'd love to go out there with you but I've promised Scoutmaster Jennings that I'd help him run his troop through the course."

"That's nice of you Sir," said Doc.

"We'll he is doing us a favor by switching so it's the least I can do."

 _ **Doc and Tucker:**_

 **Hut # 11-**

Tucker and Puddle returned to the hut and found the others packed and ready to go.

"So are we really doing this or what?" asked Doc.

"Let's go find our scout," said Tucker with a grin.

Doc noticed that Tucker's grin held no warmth.

"Can I speak to you outside?"

"Sure."

Tucker grabbed his pack and slung it over his shoulder and the two walked out and went to the tree line.

"OK, what's the deal Tucker?"

"What deal? What do you mean deal?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

"I just want to find Sullivan like all of you do."

"You mean you want to hunt him don't you?"

Tucker frowned.

"What's it to you?"

"What's it to me?" asked the medic scout, "I don't want you to turn this into a manhunt. I know that the two of you have problems with each other and I'm afraid that you're going to do something stupid."

"Oh screw you Doc, it's not as if you like him either."

"No I don't," said Doc, "But he's a fellow troopmate and we need to find him."

"I agree."

"Then promise that you won't beat him up or anything."

"Not even in self-defense?"

"Come on Tucker."

"Don't worry about it Doc," Tucker answered, "Now I've got to go run and get something so you and the others meet me at Supply and Resources in 10 minutes.

Doc shook his head as he watched Tucker walk off. He was worried as to what Tucker might do when they found Sullivan.

 _ **How Puddle got his name:**_

 **Supply and Resources-**

Doc and the rest of the boys had just arrived at the Supply and Resources building when they saw Tucker coming toward them with something secured to his pack.

"Is that what I think it is?" asked Bishop.

"I think it is," replied Tripp.

"I'm not even going to ask," Doc said as Tucker came up to the group with Paneagle's Club strapped to his pack.

"It's a good luck talisman!" Tucker said about the club to which Doc just shook his head.

A moment later a tall scout peered out at them from the window of the building.

"Need anything?" asked the Scout. The name on his uniform identified him as **Egan**.

"Yes supplies," Archer said while Trigger handed over a note card that listed what they were requesting.

Egan looked it over and then looked over his shoulder and called out, "Troop 55 is here, and they have a list of supplies."

A skinny scout walked over and leaned out of the opening. The name **Skotak** was stitched onto his shirt. He took the card and read it aloud.

"Two days' worth of basic foodstuffs, 100 feet of rope-nylon, two bottles of water purification tablets, one bottle of calamine lotion, and one snake bite kit." He said it at a rapid pace. Going out into the woods?"

"Pathfinding and Orienteering," Trigger said.

Tucker put his arm around Puddle's shoulders, smiled, and said, "Puddle here is new to the state and hasn't had much experience in the woods."

"Puddle?" said Skotak with an eyebrow raised at the diminutive scout, "Why do they call you Puddle?"

"His last name's Lake," said Tucker, "But we call him Puddle because he's too small to be a lake!"

The boys, including Egan and Skotak laughed, while Puddle blushed.

"That's a good one," said Skotak, "I have a friend that we call Lazy Eye because he has a slight lazy eye. One time he covered it up with an eye patch thinking that people wouldn't stare."

"You were with Sam Shakusky weren't you?" asked Puddle.

Skotak smiled, "Yes."

"Were you the one who got the troop to rally around him?"

"I gave some motivation," Skotak replied while downplaying his role.

In all actuality, it was he that stood up in Sam Shakusky's defense and gave a speech that got the other boys to go out and help both he and Suzy. The boys then snuck Suzy out, rescued Sam, and helped them continue their adventure. It was the most exciting thing Skotak had ever done and it helped to bring the troop closer together.

"Well we're pretty motivated to get out there and path find," said Tucker with his All-American-boy-next-door smile.

Skotak focused in on Tucker's pack and saw a familiar-looking club.

"That brings back memories," Skotak said.

"Oh this," Tucker said, "It's a good luck talisman!"

"I'm sure it is," Skotak said humorously.

He and Egan then distributed the requested items and bid Troop 55 a good day of pathfinding.

"Thanks for the supplies Skotak," said Tripp and he and the others headed toward the docks.

"You're welcome," Skotak replied. At the back of his mind however, he had a feeling that pathfinding wasn't all they were going out to do.

 _ **Lifeguard:**_

 **The Boat Dock-**

Junior Scoutmaster Deluca was currently giving swimming lesson to a dozen scouts who were rated as poor swimmers. He had started them off with holding onto the dock and kicking with their legs and now had them going both and forth while holding onto paddles. Now however, he had his attention taken by the scouts of Troop 55.

Seeing them approach, the lifeguard/swim instructor called his swimmers back to the dock and had them get out. He slid his sunglasses down his nose a bit to get a better look at the troop. Recognizing the '55' on their caps brought a smile to his face.

"Looking to have some swim practice Troop 55?" he asked.

"Actually we're looking to check out some canoes," Tucker said, "We're wanting to take them to the far side of the lake so we could do some pathfinding."

"Scoutmaster Ward said that its okay if we go path find," added Trigger who declined to add that canoes were not actually part of the pathfinding plan.

"How long are you planning on having them?" asked Deluca, "I'm already down one."

"Did it sink?" asked Tucker.

"Dunno, that or someone stole it."

"That's odd."

"There's seven of you and up to four will fit so I can sign out two for you."

"Normally its two to a canoe," interjected Archer.

"Normally, but things are going to get pretty busy as the day goes on."

"We shouldn't take too long," Tucker lied.

"Well no harm. Come with me and sign for them."

Five minutes later the troops clambered into the canoes, four in one and three in the other. They were packed tight due to their gear but were glad to get under way. Shortly they reached a bend that took them out of sight of Deluca and his swimmers. Now all they had to do was get to New Penzance without being noticed as missing. With all of the activity going on, they were sure that all would go well.

Things did indeed go well for the boys. They made it safely into Cold Water Strait, but instead of going toward Rickety Shoals like Scott did, they went northwest, toward Camp Ivanhoe. The journey to the east side of New Penzance took a few hours of hugging the sparsely populated northeastern coast of ST. Jack Wood before they headed north to New Penzance. They chose this route to lessen their chances of being seen. Once they were directly across from Camp Ivanhoe, they turned north and paddled their way in.

By this time the sky had darkened and exhausted, pulled their canoes to shore and trotted inland to camp. Once there, the tired boys entered their respective tents and fell fast asleep.

 **The Woods-**

In his pitch camp site, Scott fell asleep, Bishop's radio next to his head. He dreamt of the starlit blackness of space and of the Moon which beckoned him onward. The first half of Scott's adventure had come to an end.


	9. Scoutmaster's Decision

**Part 2: The Once and Future Moonrise Kingdom**

" _This Island is ours. Here in some way, we are young forever,"-E. Lockhart_

 **Chapter 9: Scoutmaster's Decision**

 _ **A Sinking Feeling:**_

 **Scoutmaster's Hut # 2, 19 July-**

The second half of the Hullabaloo began with a ringing sound. Scoutmaster Ward awoke at the sound of Scoutmaster Brown's alarm clock. Brown's hand flashed from out beneath the covers and shut the clock off. Ward yawned, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and switched on his lamp. His watch told him it was 5:15 a.m. He had 45 minutes to go until DJ Leffingwell sounded revile. That gave him plenty of time to clean up and get dressed.

Ward had a lot for his troop to do today. He hoped they weren't too tired from their long day of pathfinding. He hadn't had anytime at all for them yesterday. He had planned to check in on them during dinner, but he had had to leave the fort to head into town. A scout from Scoutmaster Jennings' troop named Darren Malloy, had fallen from a rope and had hit Scoutmaster Jennings who had been watching his scouts' progress from entirely too close of a vantage point. Both scoutmaster and scout were loaded into an ambulance and taken to the hospital.

Ward had accompanied them with Commander Pierce following behind in his truck. Jennings had a broken collar bone and a fractured wrist while Malloy ended up with a broken leg. Both were to be kept overnight in the hospital. Ward and Pierce didn't arrive back until after lights out. Worn out by the day's drama, he had quickly brushed his teeth and went straight to bed, confident that his boys had had a productive day of pathfinding and orienteering. He had no idea just how productive they were becoming.

 **0600-**

DJ Leffingwell climbed to his spot on the parapet, put his bugle to his lips, and proceeded to wake the campers.

Scoutmaster Ward walked out of his hut and headed toward his troop. He was looking forward to spending the day with them. The weather report called for warm temperatures and plenty of sunshine. It was a day made for scouting.

He passed several huts, each with troops standing in front, before he reached his troops' hut. Oddly, there was no one there. He opened the door and peeked inside. No one was home.

"Maybe they went to the mess hall early," he said to himself.

Ward soon found himself inside the hall. He scanned the room for any sign of his troop but there was none.

At this point he began to feel uneasy. _Where were they?_

He spent the next thirty minutes wandering around the camp before finally heading into the command hut. A check with a signal scout named Connolly turned up nothing.

He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

His anxiety grew when he went back to the hut and found that the boys' packs were missing.

"Maybe they just went off for more pathfinding," he said to himself in a failed attempt to assuage his fear.

 _ **Two Familiar Faces:**_

Further wandering around brought him to the Supply and Resources building. It wasn't open for business but he knew that there would be someone in there as it doubled as a sleeping quarters for the scout that ran it; a scout he knew well.

He knocked on the door and was answered by a familiar face.

"Good morning Sir!" said Skotak in a chipper voice.

"Good morning Skotak," he replied in a tense voice.

Skotak noticed the tome of the scoutmaster's voice and asked, "Is everything alright?"

"Did Troop 55 happen to come by yesterday?"

"Yes."

"Can I see your supply register?"

"Of course."

Ward went inside and leafed through the register. His troop had signed for a lot for just one day of pathfinding. Something was up.

"Did you see where they were headed?"

"They headed toward the dock."

Soon after his talk with Skotak he arrived at the dock and found Deluca. The lifeguard was walking out of the small building that housed boating and swimming supplies.

"Good morning Scoutmaster Ward!"

"Good morning Deluca, are you busy?"

"I'm just on my way to get breakfast, did you need anything?"

"You wouldn't happen to have seen Troop 55 lately would you?"

"They were here yesterday."

"What about?"

"They signed out two canoes."

"Canoes!"

"Yes, they said they were going to the far side of the lake for some pathfinding."

"When did they get back?"

"I didn't see them. I was off my shift."

Ward's anxiety grew. He turned from Deluca and headed down the dock itself. He stopped at a section of the dock that had empty spaces.

"Did anyone sign anything out this morning?"

"Nope."

"Look," Ward said as he pointed the empty berths out to Deluca.

"Where the hell are my canoes?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing."

"I'll be right back," Deluca said before he hurried away to the building. Moments later he returned with his log book, "They never signed them in!"

"Jiminy Cricket! Not again!"

"Not again?" Deluca asked, "You don't think they ran off…like we did," he said referencing the older Troop's actions.

Ward said quietly, "I think they did."

"Sonofabitch!" Deluca said in amazement.

Ward, not offended by the boy's profanity simply said, "I have to think of something…fast."

"If you want, I won't say anything about this until you figure it out."

Ward looked at the boy, young man actually-Deluca was (like all of the members of the old Troop 55) 16 going on 17, and knew that he could trust him to stay quiet about the predicament. He also knew that if needed, Deluca would help him find the missing Troop. He didn't want to get him involved and take him away from his lifeguard duties though. However, he did want to have Deluca ready to go if he needed him.

"Deluca, I may need your help later on…if things don't get worked out soon enough."

"What do you need?"

"Nothing at the moment. But I may need some assistance sooner or later."

"You can count on me!"

Ward smiled at the young man, "I know I can."

 _ **Dilemma:**_

 **Scoutmaster's Hut # 2-**

Ward spent the next hour and a half figuring out what to do. He had gone from one end of the spectrum to the other as he debated the merit of telling Commander Pierce or going to look for the boys. In the end he had decided on the latter over the former. Had he told Commander Pierce, not only would he had been reprimanded but the Hullabaloo would have been thrown into chaos. If that happened then all of the campers would have their celebration of the Moon landing ruined.

By deciding to go out and look for his boys he could find them and return them before they we're even noticed as missing. All he needed was a little help.

 **Supply and Resources-**

Ward discussed his plan with both Skotak and Cousin Ben inside Supply and Resources. Skotak's assistant Egan had been sent off on an errand so the three could speak in private.

Ward informed them that he was going to go back to New Penzance and check Camp Ivanhoe for the troop. If they were not there, then he'd get in touch with Captain Sharp. Together, they would go in search of the boys with the help of Sam Shakusky and Jed. He would tell everyone that he and his boys were going out into the woods for fieldcraft training. Cousin Ben and Skotak agreed to spread this 'official version' of the story.

Cousin Ben did neglect to inform Ward about what he knew of the Troops' activities. The way he saw it, the boys needed an adventure and if going off to find a wayward scout was how they'd accomplish it, then so be it.

"I shouldn't be gone too long…I hope," he said.

"Do you want us to come with you?" Skotak asked eagerly.

"Speak for yourself Skotak," Cousin Ben said, "I've got a Command Tent to run and radio traffic to manage. Besides, someone can help get information to and from Scoutmaster Ward."

"I appreciate it," Ward replied.

"Skotak, I may need your help later…yours and the others. Not now though."

"But you can't go alone," Skotak said.

"I know, but you can't leave your supplies."

"Then what."

"I know someone who can help…someone who I owe."

 _ **Making up for Missing the Original Adventure:**_

 **The Mess Hall-**

"Heck yeah I'll do it!" Chef replied boisterously.

"Do you think you can get away from your duties?"

"Sure, the adults oversee it. I'll just tell them that I need to go and get your barbecue from Camp Ivanhoe."

"Will that work?"

"I think so," Chef said, "We have more scouts here than expected and we could definitely use another grill for the barbecue."

"You'll need a day pack. When can you be ready?"

"In about 10 minutes."

"Good."

 **Cold Water Strait-**

Scoutmaster Ward and Chef entered the Cold Water Strait in a motorboat. The motorboat, a larger model with a cab and space for a barbecue, had been signed to them by Deluca. As expected, Deluca again offered his services in finding the missing troop. Ward told him the same thing that he had told Skotak in that his help may be needed later. Satisfied with the response, Deluca untied the boat from the dock and bade them good luck.

The journey to the east end of New Penzance wouldn't take them too long but it was still too long for Ward who was on pins and needles. Did he make the right decision? Should he had gone off? Did covering his and his troops track compromise the Scout Laws? Maybe it did, but he couldn't leave his troops all alone. He had to find them.

 **The Command Hut-**

Cousin Ben set the log book down on the desk and then sat down himself. He had just penciled in Ward and Chef's trip to New Penzance. He would cover the two as best he could as well as the missing troop. All he needed to do was to keep Ward and his troop logged in and out periodically for the day. Cartwright and Morris were busy at their respective radio and telegraphs. They were receiving and sending messages to the troops that were training for their signal badges. It was enough to keep the two occupied and out of Troop 55's hair.


	10. No Scout is an Island

**Chapter 10: No Scout is an Island**

 _ **Space Cadet:**_

 **The Woods-**

It was mid-morning and Scott was trampling through the woods on his meandering path across the island. He figured he had plenty of time to make it to his destination. According to the news broadcasts, the astronauts would land sometime on the afternoon of the 20th. That gave him a full day and half. As it stood, Astronaut Michael Collins had just announced that he and his fellow astronauts, Neil Armstrong and Edwin "Buzz" Aldrin, were able to make out constellations for the first time on their trip.

He could only imagine it: seeing the darkness of space highlighted by pin pricks of light. The ribbon of the Milky Way, the gray orb of the Moon, and the blue and green Earth. Being up there would be the greatest adventure of all. Astronaut Scott B. Sullivan, traveling in his capsule into the great unknown. He closed his eyes and imagined himself in the zero gravity of space.

Unfortunately for Astronaut Scott B. Sullivan, Earth's gravity caught a hold of him and brought him back down to terra firma.

While busily enjoying his foray into space, Scott had failed to notice the fallen tree branch. His left foot caught it as he was bringing it back up and he lost his footing. He overcorrected himself and swung to his left. He struggled to bring his right foot around to steady himself, but he was too late. He fell forward toward a downslope and landed hard on his stomach.

"OOOF!" he exhaled as he had the wind knocked out of him.

This wasn't all; the frame of his pack hit him on the back of his head and he responded with a flurry of expletives.

He forced himself up but fell to the right as he did, and slid down the side of the slope. He began to roll and finally came to a rest with his face in a small stream.

"DAMMIT!" he yelled at the top of his lungs as he raised his head out of the water.

Scott pushed himself up and on wobbly knees attempted to steady himself. He looked up to his right and saw the slope that he had rolled down. Then he took a look at himself.

He sported some cuts and bruises on his arms and knees. Feeling something rolling down his cheek, he reached out with his hand and touched it. Pulling his hand away he saw blood.

"URGH!" he grunted and then stopped. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and began to slowly count.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one."

At 'one' he opened his eyes. He felt a little calmer but sore as well. Walking away from the stream he found a moss covered rock to sit on. Dropping his pack, he sat and took from it a facecloth and his first aid kit. Thankfully he wasn't seriously hurt. He applied iodine to his cuts and scrapes, wincing as he did so, and then covered them with Band-Aids.

Scott pulled out his lighter and another Lucky Strike. He now had four left. Scott lit the cigarette and brought it to his lips. He inhaled, held it, and then slowly exhaled. He wasn't one hundred percent sure why he smoked. His father smoked (the Lucky Strikes were 'borrowed' from his old man anyway) so he supposed that he may as well smoke too. Smoking also helped calm him. He had been stressed a lot lately and had been smoking more and more. His mother said it was a bad habit but as far as he was concerned, it was his only bad habit.

The thought of his parents took him away from the woods into his home life and the distress he felt there.

 _ **Sadness:**_

Images flashed through his mind: He and his parents enjoying a day at the shore; he and his father skipping stones across the water while his mother looked on smiling-his parents sitting across from each other at the table staring one another down; Scott helping his mother with the dishes-his mother crying in garden without realizing that her son was watching from his bedroom; Scott handing his father a wrench as he worked on his car-seeing his father drinking an entire bottle of whiskey as he angrily went on about his wife.

More scenes from the past year played out in the movie theater of Scott's mind. Each one detailing the dissolution of his parents' marriage.

Shout and accusations raced through his mind and filled him with sadness. Absent-mindedly he finished his cigarette, tossed the butt into a pouch on his pack, sat down, and hugged his knees to his chest as visions of arguments filled his brain. These were all burned into his memory and finally made him break down in sorrow. His eyes teared up and he choked back a sob. He tried to keep his cool but he couldn't.

Tears began to flow freely and the sobs came out, racking his body. He buried his face into his crossed arms and wept bitter tears.

Here he was, on his big adventure, feeling miserable when he should be happy.

An image of Tucker suddenly jumped into his head. Gregory Tucker, childhood best friend turned archenemy. Tucker had abandoned him this year when he needed him most. The lousy turncoat hadn't even given him a valid reason why! On top of it, Tucker had turned the entire troop against him by painting him as some sort of rule breaker. He had gone from being one of the guys to being an outcast, a persona non grata.

Having his parents' marriage dissolve and losing his best friend was too much for him. He slid off the rock and sat on the forest floor. Still hugging his knees to his chest, he rolled onto his side and lay there, curled up like a baby.

He lay there for several minutes as he worked his sorrow out of his system. Then he opened his eyes.

"Stop it," he whispered with a shaking voice, "Dammit! Stop acting like a baby!"

Scott rolled to his hands and knees then leaned back. He wiped away his tears and took a deep breath. He felt like a fool. Here he was on his great big adventure and his was acting like a 3 year old. 12 year old boys weren't supposed to act like babies; Khaki Scouts were never supposed to act like babies.

He was a Khaki Scout and Khaki Scouts were supposed to act like young men!

He calmed himself and stood. He had a mission to go on and he wasn't going to let a tumble stop him. Nor would he let misery overtake him. He would continue on, Scott B. Sullivan versus the world!

Then he paused. Something dawned on him: _he_ had left his troop.

 _ **Broken Law:**_

In his quest for adventure he had violated the Third Scout Law: No Scout is an island, he is part of a team; no Scout leaves another behind.

He felt his face flush with guilt.

This was momentary as he reasoned that it had in fact been the troop that had first violated the Third Law. By being convinced by Tucker to ostracize him, Troop 55 had left him behind. Oh, there were those who weren't so bad; Tripp was essentially harmless, Bishop was kind to him, Puddle was friendly enough, Doc was indifferent, Archer and Trigger were slightly cold to him. All in all, they weren't exactly that bad of a group with one exception: the dominance of Gregory Tucker. They all acquiesced to him and none of them seemed to intervene in Tucker's harassment of him.

This one fact alleviated Scott's guilt of breaking the Third Law. Yes, the others hadn't actually broken the law; it was only Tucker. Tucker had left him high and dry. He had been the first to break the law so Scott felt that he was in the right to go off on his own.

"You struck first Greg," he said, "I only broke the law after you did."

Scott smiled grimly, pulled on his pack, and continued on his journey.

"Whoever said that no scout is an island, hasn't met me."


	11. Speak softly and carry a Big Stick

**Chapter 11: Speak softly, and carry a Big Stick**

 _ **Let's be ready to go:**_

 **Camp Ivanhoe, 19 July 0600-**

While Scoutmaster Ward and Chef were still a few hours from arriving at Camp Ivanhoe, Troop 55 stirred, awoke, and resumed their search (manhunt).

Bishop unzipped the entrance of his tent and breathed in the morning air. The morning was cool but humid and promised a day of sunlit warmth. He yawned, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and stepped out. Looking around he saw Doc. The shirtless medic scout was brushing his teeth. He caught Doc's attention and waved.

Doc took a drink from his canteen, gargled, and spat on the ground.

"Good morning," he said to Bishop.

"Good morning…Showing off?"

"What?" asked Doc who then looked down at himself and then added matter-of-factly, "No, I'm not showing off. I'm cleaning up. Poor hygiene can have an adverse impact to one's health."

"Right."

Doc finished brushing and then grabbed a bar of soap and his canteen. He then proceeded to wash behind his neck and under his arms. "Cleanliness is next to godliness…besides, I don't want to smell bad."

"Good point Doc," Bishop replied, then added, "I'm thinking that we should wake the guys up. When did you get up?"

"About half an hour ago. I did some pushups and sit-ups. Need to stay in shape, its healthy."

"Good point too, but why let us sleep in then?" Bishop asked, "We probably should be looking for Sullivan."

"I thought that too," Doc replied as he wiped and toweled himself dry. The medic then applied some sunscreen to his face, "But after paddling here, I think everyone is dog-tired. I had to force myself to exercise."

Doc had a point: Bishop was dog-tired; his arms were sore from paddling and he had gotten sunburnt on his neck.

"True, but maybe we should get them up soon."

The sound of a zipper caught the attention of the boys.

Tripp, half-dressed, stepped out of the tent and plodded over to brush his teeth. He carried his canteen with his good hand and his toothbrush in the other.

"Good morning," he yawned to them.

Good morning," Bishop and Doc replied.

Tripp was followed by the McMillian twins and Puddle.

"Where's Tucker?" asked Archer.

"Puddle, go wake him up," said Trigger.

Puddle ran over to Tucker's tent and called to their leader.

No response.

Puddle called for Tucker again and again received no response. He unzipped the tent and poked his head in. No Tucker.

"Guys, Tucker isn't here."

"Why do I have a feeling that he went after Sullivan on his own?" Doc asked himself as he applied bug repellant to himself.

"Because Tucker hates him?" ventured Tripp.

"Maybe we should head out then," said Trigger who was eager to find Sullivan and prove just who the better pathfinder was.

"Good, you're all up!" came Tucker's voice.

The boys looked toward the camp's entrance and saw Tucker walking toward them, Paneagle's club in hand.

"Thought you ran off too," said Doc.

"None of us thought of looking for signs of Sullivan when we got here last night."

"We we're tired," said Tripp.

"I didn't think of it myself, but we gotta be smarter than our quarry, so I decided to take a look around."

"Quarry?" Doc said and shook his head.

"Yup!"

"Find anything?" asked Trigger as he wiped the dust off of his glasses with his undershirt that was slung over his right shoulder.

"No. I don't think he came this way."

"It makes sense," said Doc, "We paddled way out of our way. I think that he took the short route and went to where the Stepping Stone River meets the strait."

"Across Rickety Shoals?" Bishop said in amazement, "He may have capsized!"

"One could only hope," Tucker said sarcastically.

" _What_ exactly is the deal between you two?" asked Doc who was disgusted over the comment.

"Never mind," Tucker said sharply, then continued, "It makes sense that he'd go that way. I'm certain he's heading for the ol' Mile 3.25 Tidal Inlet, so we should head there and cut him off."

"That makes sense," said Archer.

Doc leaned in close to Tucker and said, "Look, I know you two despise one another, and I'm not exactly thrilled that he's a renegade, but he's fellow Khaki Scout, not a criminal."

Tucker ignored the comment and said to the boys, "Let's be ready in five!"

"But I have to eat something," said Archer.

"Me too," added Trigger, "I'm starving."

The troops voiced their agreement with Trigger.

Tucker surveyed the troop: They were in various states of dress-Puddle in full uniform, Bishop and Tripp in undershirts and shorts, the twins and Doc clad in shorts but barechested, most barefoot. He rolled his eyes; they would need a few minutes to get ready. "OK fine…be ready in fifteen."

 _ **Crossed Paths:**_

 **Scott Sullivan-**

Scott had completely gotten over his sadness and was now back on his trek. He had well over a day to get to his destination. He had realized that he had quite a lot of time…as a matter of fact he had too much time. There was so much time that he knew that he would be missed. Someone was bound to be out here looking for him. He had thought of this earlier but forgotten about it since. But as the day wore on, he imagined that the whole troop, if not the entire fort, would be aware of his absence.

He also reasoned that his efforts at misdirection would only have served to give him a few hours head start. Trigger McMillian was too good a pathfinder to be so easily misled. If there was a search party he figured that it would find its way here instead of staying on ST. Jack Wood. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out that he was heading toward the same destination that Sam and Suzy had made for in 1965. If things went bad, then there would be a search party waiting for him at his destination.

If they were waiting for him then he'd be trapped. Any searchers would probably include Captain Sharp and more scouts who would be able to reach the inlet quickly by car and boat. They would reason that with his head start he would have reached the inlet by now or would be closing in on it. Of course they couldn't catch him if he wasn't there.

Scott decided to continue his meandering hike across the island. He would steer clear of any trails that led to it. He felt that time was on his side. He'd go off toward the east and then loop back around sometime tomorrow afternoon and make it to the kingdom just in time. He lit another cigarette, he now had three left, and continued on his journey.

The oversaturation of pine scent finally got to be too much for Scott. His nose twitched and he felt a sneeze building up inside of him. He tried to stave it off but failed. He took his cigarette away from his mouth and sneezed loudly.

 **Troop 55-**

Seven boys trekked westward from Camp Ivanhoe toward the center of New Penzance. Trigger led the way, Tucker followed to his right, Puddle to his left. Behind these three were Doc, Tripp, Bishop, and Trigger's brother Archer who brought up the rear. The troop had been spread out in two wedges but had collapsed into a single-file formation as soon as they entered the woods.

At first the lads were boisterous and joined one another in song. As one they sang a ditty that some of their grandfathers had sung, "A Mademoiselle from Armentieres parley vous! Mademoiselle from Armentiers parley vous! Mademoiselle from Armentieres, she ain't been kissed in forty years! Hinky-dinky parrrrleeeey vous!"

"OOOH!"

That last part came from Tripp whose grandfather who had learned it on the Western Front in during the last year of World War One. The boy gave a little hop as he gave his, "OOOH!"

After a couple of more iterations of the song, which became racier as the boys went on, they quieted down.

Now under the cover of the canopy of branches and leaves, the troop halted. Trigger took a knee, removed his campaign hat, and focused on his surroundings. He took in the pine scent of the forest, the chirping of the birds, and scanned the woods. He stayed like this for a full minute, then stood and moved on. The pathfinder repeated this act every two hundred or so yards as they went.

"What's he doing?" whispered Puddle to Tripp.

Tripp answered matter-of-factly, "He's getting a feel for the forest. He's listening for anyone walking and also smelling for anything out of place."

"Oh."

Trigger did his best to pick up any trace of Sullivan but reasoned that the wayward scout was probably at the Mile 3.25 Tidal Inlet, or what was left of it, by now. Still, it couldn't hurt. He was still sore from being so easily misled. He knew he could find Sullivan. He wanted to find him before he reached his destination. What sort of a challenge would it be if he found him at the one place where he knew Sullivan was heading?

It was obvious where Sullivan was heading and in a way that bothered him. He thought about it: Troop 55, Sullivan running off, Sam Shakusky, and a group hot in pursuit. He was annoyed that everyone knew where Sullivan was going. It took the challenge way from him. This made him feel sad. He wanted to single handedly find Sullivan. It would vindicate him as the best pathfinder around.

He came upon a trail that led down into a dried up river bed. He slowed his pace and continued with the other troops in tow. He sniffed. Something was burning. A burning scent wafted over to him on the breeze...cigarette smoke. Then a sound caught his attention: someone sneezed.

"Someone sneezed!" Trigger said.

"Sullivan!" Tucker replied.

"I found him!" Trigger said in triumph. He was about to move forward but froze momentarily as Tucker dropped his pack and walked past him.

 **Scott Sullivan-**

The sound of approaching footsteps grabbed Scott's attention. He looked up from his position in a dried riverbed and saw someone coming toward him: Tucker.

He saw something attached to Tucker's backpack-Paneagle's Club.

"Why are you following me?" Scott asked.

"We couldn't let one of our own be off by himself," Tucker said with an unkind smile.

Scott replied to the smile with a quip: "Well you did tell me to take a hike."

"Didn't think you'd take it literally," Tucker studied the state of Scott and his uniform and took note of the missing arm from his uniform top and the scrapes and bruises and Band-Aids, "What the hell happened to you?"

"I ran into some problems while getting here."

"Guess it couldn't be helped," Tucker said then added, "We're here to bring you back."

Scott raised an eyebrow, "What if I don't want to go back?"

"Then we'll have to take you by force," Tucker said as he looked over his shoulder and saw that the rest of his troops had followed him and arrayed themselves behind him.

"Brought your whole army I see."

"Yes. Now you can come along without resisting," Tucker said and then whispered so only Scott could hear, "Or you _could_ resist." Tucker looked behind him to the others and then back to Scott and with a wink, whispered again, "Please resist!"

Scott rolled his eyes, "Look, first you want me out of the troop and now you're trying to bring me back. Make up your damn mind one way or another. Either way Tucker, stop wasting our time."

"Oh, this isn't a waste of time Sullivan," Tucker said with glee, "This is an excellent opportunity to practice pathfinding and orientation skills."

"I've got something to do. Now if you and the rest of the Wild Bunch will excuse me."

Scott turned but then soon found a hand on his shoulder. He spun around and came face to face with Tucker.

 **Troop 55-**

The boys of Troop 55 watched as Sullivan spun around and came face to face with Tucker. From there things escalated rather quickly.

 _ **Sullivan versus Tucker: Round One:**_

The two boys stood face to face, two and a half inches apart. Eye to eye they stared and waited for the other to make his move.

They didn't have to wait long.

Scott decided in a split second that fighting wasn't worth it. He would just back away and move out. Scott turned and made to walk off; Tucker however, had other plans.

Tucker reached out, grabbed Scott by the collar, and pulled him back.

"C'mon Sullivan le-,"

Tucker was going to say 'Let's go' but was cut off by Scott's fist.

As soon as Tucker had yanked him back, Scott planted his right foot behind him and swung round to his left with all the speed he could muster. He balled his right hand into a fist and sent it swinging right into the left side of Tucker's face.

The blow caught the boy by surprise and he let go of Scott. He staggered back and felt the pain register on his face. Amazed, he looked at Sullivan and saw him standing his ground in front of him. Tucker tasted copper. He spat on the ground and saw blood.

Incredulous, he looked up from the ground to Scott who had dropped his rucksack and said, "You hit me!"

"Serves you right."

Tucker rushed him.

 **Troop 55-**

"I'm stopping this," Doc said as he moved past the others.

"That might not be a good idea," said Tripp.

 _ **Sullivan versus Tucker: Round Two:**_

Scott was barely a match for Tucker's boxing skills. He did his best to parry and block the punches and jabs and was successful for a few moments but took a brutal punch to the upper left chest and another to the gut which winded him. He staggered and dropped to his knees.

Tucker watched his opponent go down and then looked back to the others. He saw that Doc was heading down.

"Hold up Doc!" he yelled.

Doc reflexively froze in place. He had a feeling that if he tried to intervene then Tucker would floor him too.

"You bastard," Scott gasped as he struggled to get up.

"Bastard?" Tucker said surprised, "Me? A bastard? If anything it's you and your old man who are bastards!"

"Wha-what?"

Tucker looked at his ex-best friend and saw a younger version of Scott Sullivan's dad. That was enough to make him let go of the truth.

"You'd like to know why I don't like you don't you?"

Scott looked at Tucker questioningly, "What do you mean?"

"The reason my parents are divorced is because your old man had an affair with my mom!"

He said it loud enough so that Doc and the others could hear it.

Scott was shocked still.

"What?" he whispered.

"See I know your parents are getting divorced. That's why you've been acting up and breaking rules…and probably why you ran off! My parents are divorced because your dad convinced my mom to have an affair with him and now I have a broken home!"

Tears of rage flooded Gregory Tucker's eyes as he let loose the terrible truth that had been gnawing at him for months.

"This is not going to be good," Doc said to himself.

Tucker continued, "I hope your parents put you in the same situation I'm in Sullivan! I hope you feel as miserable as I do, you bastard!"

Scott processed the information and it all made sense to him. What Tucker said explained both the Tucker divorce as well as his own parents disintegrating marriage. It answered the question why his parents hurled insults and insinuations against one another. And it answered why Tucker hated him: Tucker couldn't stand the thought of being around someone who was a reminder of his own broken home; especially the fact that Scott looked like a junior version of his father. When Tucker looked at him he saw the man who broke up his parents' marriage and not his best friend.

Unfortunately, Tucker had said it loud enough for the others to hear. Now his secret was out and they would all rally behind Tucker, grab him, and drag him back to Fort Lebanon thus spoiling his mission.

He decided immediately not to let that happen.

Scott summoned what strength he had left and made his move.

Tucker was shaking in barely-controlled anger. The tears in his eyes blurred his vision which left him vulnerable to Scott's counterattack.

 **Troop 55-**

Puddle stood overlooking the scene before him and struggled to process everything he had just heard Tucker say. As he was putting it all together he saw Sullivan stand and go charging right at Tucker.

Puddle watched as Sullivan unleashed his onslaught.

"Holy shit!"

 _ **Sullivan versus Tucker: Round Three:**_

Sullivan rushed right into Tucker and sent him to the ground. He straddled his opponent and swung at him in an uncontrolled rage. Tucker did his best to block the punches and succeeded in deflecting most of them but Sullivan managed to land a few. Some of these found his face while others hit him right in the chest. Lastly, one hard blow landed in his gut which caused him to lose his breath. He yelped, curled into a ball, and forced himself to roll to the left. He lay there on his side as Sullivan stood and walked off.

He went to Tucker's pack and removed Paneagle's Club.

Tucker looked up and saw Sullivan standing over him with the club in his hand.

"OK," he whispered, "I deserve it."

Sullivan looked at Tucker and wondered what he meant. Then he looked to the club and figured that Tucker thought he was going to hit him with it. Tucker couldn't have been farther from the truth. Instead Sullivan bent over, grabbed Tucker's right arm and pulled him to his feet.

The troop looked at the two bloodied boys and watched in anticipation of what would happen next.

Clutching the club in one hand and Tucker's arm in the other, Scott spoke softly, "Please…just let me be on my way."

For a moment, Tucker just stared at him dumbfounded, and then nodded his consent.

Scott let go of Tucker and marched off into the woods, leaving the others staring in disbelief.


	12. Search Party

**Chapter 12: Search Party**

 _ **Empty Camp:**_

 **Camp Ivanhoe, July 19** **th** **, mid-morning-**

An empty camp greeted Scoutmaster Ward and Chef. The two had pulled ashore and walked to the camp and found it deserted. However, there was evidence that the troop had been there: fresh footprints and spit-out toothpaste proved beyond the shadow of a doubt that the boys had come this way.

"They were here alright," Ward said as he looked at the evidence.

"Any idea where they went?" Chef asked.

Ward thought about it: the troops had come up through the ranks hearing about Sam Shakusky's adventure. It made perfect sense that they would try to emulate him.

"I think I know where they're going?"

Chef looked lost in thought for a moment but then replied, "Mile 3.25 Tidal Inlet?"

"Yes."

"But it doesn't exist anymore. It was washed away in the storm."

"I don't think that's the point Chef. I think that they're trying to relive Shakusky's trek."

"If that's the case, we can hop in the boat and beat them there."

"How much fuel do we have?"

Chef thought about it and then realized that with a full tank they would be able to make the inlet but would have to refill on the way back.

"We could make it…but we'd have to get fuel right away and there is nowhere to get fuel around there."

"I could contact Captain Sharp…but that would probably be a fiasco."

"What should we do?" Chef asked, "I mean we just can't go back without them."

He looked at Chef and realized that the lad had missed out on the first adventure. It was a shame that he hadn't been able to take part but his duty had called.

Ward knew where the troop was up to: They were following in the footsteps of their fore-bearers. It didn't matter that the tidal inlet was no more, it was the principle behind it that mattered. Maybe they should go.

"I was thinking," Ward said, "This could actually be a good experience for the troop."

"What?" Chef asked in amazement, "But they ran away!"

"I know, but maybe they can come closer together."

"Closer together?"

"Yes. I think there's been some issues between some of the boys."

"Sullivan?"

Ward cocked his head at Chef and then asked, "What makes you say that?"

Chef proceeded to tell him about the other day; how Sullivan hadn't shown up for KP duty and how negatively Tucker spoke of him.

Ward listened to Chef and then told him how Sullivan had had a falling out with Tucker. He explained that the two had gone from sharing friendship to sharing animosity and how the rest of the troop had begun to exclude Sullivan.

"Then why did they all run off together?" Chef asked.

"Maybe they didn't."

"Really?"

"I think," Ward put it altogether, "That Sullivan decided to run away and that the rest of the troop went after him." Ward took his campaign hat off, sighed, and continued, "I really believe that Tucker led the boys after Sullivan to bring him back. Jiminy Crickett, how did I not see it?"

Chef thought about this for a moment and then said, "Makes sense to me."

"I have a bad feeling that it's become a manhunt."

"Think Tucker will want to rough him up?"

"Yes."

"So what do we do?"

"I'm not sure...we have to find them but at the same time I want them to work their problems out. I don't think the boys will let Tucker and Sullivan come to blows."

"I don't know," said Chef, "When I saw them it seemed like Tucker really had it in for Sullivan."

"Then we need to get a hold of Captain Sharp."

"What about letting the fort know?"

Ward thought it over: he didn't want to let Commander Pierce know if he could help it. Instead he'd get in touch with someone he could trust, "I have to send a message."

 _ **A Message:**_

 **The Command Tent-**

The sounds of a message in Morse Code caught the attention of Khaki Scout Emmett 'Morse Code' Morse. The Signal Scout had just come on shift with his partner, Tanner Hagen. Morse took the message then passed it over to his supervisor, an older scout with curly, rust-colored hair named Izod.

LJ Izod had been on the night shift but was spending an additional few hours during this morning to oversee the command tent due to the day shift scout, Randall Howard, being out with a bad case of indigestion. Izod was tired and falling asleep until he read the message. Instantly his energy was reinvigorated. He sat up, told the two scouts to hold the fort, and went in search of Cousin Ben.

He found Cousin Ben at **Supply and Resources** and handed him the message while Skotak looked on. He then shared it with his younger cousin.

"It sounds like Scoutmaster Ward wants the troop to make it to their destination, but it also sounds like he needs to stop them," said Izod.

"I agree," replied Skotak, "If it wasn't for the fact that the troop is on a manhunt, then Scoutmaster Ward and Captain Sharp would let them continue."

"Tucker has the troop tracking down the wayward scout," said Cousin Ben, "Just like you guys did."

Skotak gave a sheepish look.

Izod yawned, rubbed his eyes, and said, "Maybe we should let them work their differences out...like we did with Shakusky."

Skotak and Cousin raised an eyebrow each as one.

"Want are you suggesting camper?" asked Cousin Ben, "That we lead Scoutmaster Ward and Captain Sharp astray?"

"Well, we're not 100 percent sure where they are going," replied Izod, "I mean they could be going to where Shakusky and his girl went, but maybe they're going to get a better view of the landing."

"That means that they could be going to the easternmost point of the island," said Cousin Ben.

Skotak said, "Of course! The Moon will appear closest to there than anywhere else on the island!"

Cousin Ben thought for a moment and then said to the two, "I have a plan…"

He detailed the plan to the two boys and then told Skotak to relay it to Deluca. Then he and Izod hurried back to the Command Tent.

Once inside, Cousin Ben shooed Morse from his seat and then sent Ward his reply.

 _ **Reply:**_

 **Camp Ivanhoe-**

Ward looked at the reply from Scoutmaster Mazursky, AKA Cousin Ben, and realized that it made sense. Now all he had to do was let Chef and Captain Sharp know.

 _ **Driving Lessons:**_

 **Captain Sharp and Deputy Shakusky-**

"Keep your speed slow," Sharp said to his deputy.

Sam gave Sharp a sideways glance and a little grin then accelerated.

"You said I'm going too slow?"

"You know what I said."

Sam smiled and let up on the gas and brought the car down to 20mph.

"How am I doing?"

"Aside from speeding, not bad."

Sam giggled.

"Think I'm ready for my driver's test?"

"No."

The pair looked at one another and smiled.

Sam had been practicing for two weeks now but knew he wasn't quite ready for his driver's test. All he had done so far was drive around the island. He still needed experience driving in the city as well as on the interstate.

As for now, it was another circuit around New Penzance. They were about halfway through their rounds as they came upon Sam's old haunt: Camp Ivanhoe.

The camp, a rectangular compound with walls made of logs that encompassed an area that featured two rows of tents, sat in the middle of a large open space that was surrounded by old-growth pine forest. Camp Ivanhoe should have been deserted due to the Hullabaloo, but Sharp and Shakusky found that that was not quite so.

Two figures walked under the sign that said **Camp Ivanhoe** , and exited the camp.

Deputy Shakusky smiled as he slowed the car down and came to a stop alongside the pair.

"Hello Scoutmaster Ward, hi Chef."

"Hello Shakus-Deputy Shakusky," Ward said with a smile as he corrected himself.

"Hi Sam," replied Chef, "Hello Captain Sharp."

Sharp exited the vehicle, said 'hello' to Chef and then said, "Morning Randy."

"Morning," Ward said.

"I thought you'd be over at the Hullabaloo."

"About that…"

 _ **I can't wait until Retirement:**_

 **15 Minutes Later-**

Captain Duffy Sharp thought about everything that Ward had just told him. It all sounded like September 1965 all over again. He glanced at his deputy who turned his head to look at him. Sharp could see it in Sam's eyes that he thought the same as well. He sighed and thought to himself, _I can't wait until retirement._

"So you think that one scout decided to run off and copy what Deputy Shakusky did and that the rest went after him?"

"Yes," said Ward

"Who else knows about this?"

"Just one other scoutmaster and three other scouts."

"They don't happen to be some of the ones from last time do they?"

Ward smiled, "Izod, Skotak, and Deluca."

Chef said to Sam, "I think they've all taken a page out of your book."

Sam gave a little giggle, "I didn't think that I was so inspiring."

"I've been in contact with Scoutmaster Mazursky at Fort Lebanon. Word is that the boys are wanting to be at the eastern end of the island in time for the astronauts to walk on the Moon."

Sharp looked to Ward and said, "I suppose we should form a search party and go find them."

"I think we should let them keep going," said Sam.

"What?" Sharp asked his deputy, "Why they're not too far from us if they're going there?"

"Because after I ran off, everyone ended up better off. Even though I left the Khaki Scouts, I and the troop became friends…even Redford and I did too."

Sharp knew that Sam had a point. Following the incident, all was well between Sam and Troop 55. Even things had become well between he and Redford. A group of wayward scouts could fix their issues while they went through the woods.

""I think you're right Sam," Sharp said, "They're trained scouts and it's only a few more hours until the astronauts land."

"I agree too," answered Ward, "In the meantime, we can wait at here or at the station and then go and get them tonight."

"What about the Hullabaloo?" asked Sam.

"I have Scoutmaster Mazursky covering down for me. There's so much going on that I doubt anyone would notice one troop missing, especially seeing as we have some friends looking out for us."

"Well then," Chef said, "I guess we better rest up for tonight."

"Captain Sharp," Sam said.

"Yes?"

"Can you drop me off at the Bishop's?"

"Why?"

"I think Suzy would like to see the Moon tonight."

Sharp smiled at the boy, "OK, let's go."

 _ **The Eagle has Landed:**_

 **Scott Sullivan-**

It was now mid-afternoon and Scott was making his way through the woods. He was still sore from the pounding that he had taken from Tucker. It was through sheer anger and a bit of luck that he had taken down and humbled his rival.

Besting Gregory Tucker wasn't what he was thinking about though; rather it was what Tucker had said. He now knew the reason behind Tucker's dislike of him. The truth had finally come out. Scott was numbed by what he had been told but at the same time he felt bad for Tucker. The confident and sometimes brash scout had just been humiliated in front of the entire troop and now his dirty laundry, and Scott's, was left hanging in the breeze for all to see.

As he continued through the woods on his meandering way, he could only feel sorry for Tucker. Funny how that worked out.

He walked for a few more minutes and then dropped his pack. Reaching into it, he took Bishop's radio, wound it, and tuned in to Walter Cronkite.

The sage voice of the seasoned anchorman informed Scott that the Eagle module had separated from the Orbiter 10 minutes ago and was on its way to the surface of the Moon.

Scott sat down, took out his third-to-last cigarette, lit it and began to smoke.

At 4:18 pm. with Tucker and the troop forgotten, Cronkite announced to the world, in words that would be cemented into human history, _'The Eagle has landed.'_

"WOO-HOO!" he shouted out in joy as he jumped to his feet, caring not if anyone heard him.

Soon Cronkite announced that the astronauts would be stepping onto the Moon just before 3 a.m. Greenwich Mean Time or 10 p.m. Eastern Standard Time.

Scott looked at his watch and saw that he had just under five hours to go. He had plenty of time to reach his destination. For now, lest he be seen by any search parties, he decided to fix some Tang and lay low.

 **Fort Lebanon-**

Khaki Scout Hiram Schwartz sprinted out of the mess hall and quickly made his way to the command tent. He found Secretary McIntyre and Commander Pierce and relayed the information to them. Pierce's normally gruff face turned into a smile. He turned to a seated scout and said, "Izod, get me on the PA system."

Izod did as told, "Attention! Attention! Standby for important information from Commander Pierce."

Pierce took hold of the microphone and announced the Moon Landing over the fort's PA system by reiterating Walter Cronkite's words, "The Eagle has Landed!"

All across the camp things came to a stop:

Spinner Robinson looked up from his first aid test, a prone Tiger McNally (with simulated compound fracture to the tibia) and looked up at the sky in wonder.

Frenchie Lemieux, on KP duty, was about to sling a trash bag into a dumpster and stopped mid-swing. Hearing the message about the Eagle, he smiled.

Sebastian Pulaski, strapped into the zipline, heard the news…and was then pushed off the precipice of the tower by Scoutmaster Greene. He hollered in joy as he went.

Kevin "Blackie" Muldoon, Charlie "Horse" Atwater, and Archibald, "Archie" Black puffed from a cigarette that they passed between them, and then paused to listen to the bulletin. His attention held, Blackie forgot about the burning cigarette in his hand, and received an unpleasant surprise as the almost burned out cigarette burnt his fingers. He let out a yelp of pain and received a razz from his fellow Black Sheep.

Outside the north wall of the fort, Troop 41 was hard at work assisting in the set-up of tonight's fireworks. Working under the guidance of two professional firework technicians and Scoutmaster Rosen of Troop 41. The news from Commander Pierce stole their attention away from the task at hand.

Four members of the troop looked up at the nearest loudspeaker and then to one another. The four boys, Ollie Oliver, Hef Heflin, Kip Foley, and Fruit Frahm threw their arms up and cheered.

Junior Scoutmaster Deluca, who was waiting to hear from Scoutmaster Ward and Cousin Ben, was currently giving swimming instructions when he and his swimmers heard the loudspeaker. The swimmers grabbed onto the dock, Deluca crossed his arms and leaned against a post, then let out a cheer as word came from Commander Pierce about the astronauts' landing. Unfortunately, Deluca lost his balance and fell in with his swimmers who promptly practiced their new lifesaving skills on their instructor.

Roosevelt was hurrying over to the Supply and Resources office to meet with Skotak when he heard the news. He quickly turned his head in the direction of the loudspeaker as he walked and continued on as he received the news.

"WHOOP!" the normally subdued scout cheered before he turned his head in his direction of travel…and walked face first into a bulletin board.


	13. A Little Rebellion

**Chapter 13: A Little Rebellion  
**

 _ **Legalities:**_

 **Summer's End-**

"Walt, what is the status of _Landers versus Timmons_?" asked Laura Bishop.

Walt lowered the _Daily Dispatch_ and answered his wife, "The case was dismissed due to insufficient evidence. What was the outcome of _Higgins versus Higgins_?"

"The case is going to be settled out of court."

"Marriage counseling?"

"Yes."

"Good," replied Walt. He knew that marriage counseling could save a marriage. After all, he and Laura were still together.

Laura was enjoying reading a book in the quiet calmness of the house. Suzy's cat Wes, lounged contentedly on her lap. The three boys were at the Hullabaloo on ST Jack Wood Island leaving the house with just Suzy, Walt, and herself. Suzy was currently upstairs reading, and taking a break from babysitting the Dempsey children from down the lane. Her attention was taken from the book by the sound of a car. She looked out the window and saw Duffy Sharp's cruiser pull up and let out Deputy Shakusky.

She looked at Duffy and noticed that he still wouldn't look at the house when he dropped Sam off. She was happy that she and Walt had patched up their marriage, but she still missed her time with the police officer. The two of them had been together off and on during the spring and summer of 65' but they had never actually consummated their illicit relationship, a few episodes of teenage-like making out sessions, not included.

She now watched as Sam came to the door and knocked; after a few months, she and Walt had finally persuaded the boy to use the front door instead of the window. She put the book down, stood, picked up Wes who gave a 'meow,' and grabbed the bullhorn that sat next to her on the end table. She raised it to her lips, and called out, "Suzy! Sam is here!"

Upstairs, Suzy put down her book and smiled.

 _ **OK, OK, what do you need?:**_

 **Fort Lebanon-**

Skotak and Deluca sat at a picnic table near the dock and discussed the going-ons of Troop 55:

Deluca, wrapped in a towel since his fall into the water, grinned, "Its 1965 all over again isn't it?"

"That's what I'm thinking."

"Then the troop will never make it. They'll be stopped before they can get there."

"That may be, but what is happening tonight?"

"The Moon landing."

"And what direction does the moon rise?"

Deluca thought about it. He wasn't particularly versed in astronomy so he guessed: "The east?"

"North or South of East," Skotak replied, "It depends on the time of year."

"OK, so what does this mean then?"

"All that we need to do is convince the searchers that the troop will be going to the easternmost tip of New Penzance to witness the moon rise."

Deluca considered this a moment and then said, "Then that would mean that they're not going to where Sam and Suzy went."

"Exactly."

"But isn't that where they're going?"

"Definitely."

"Then why would anyone think otherwise?"

"They wouldn't," Skotak said, "They would have to be convinced."

Deluca looked confused, "You mean someone would have to persuade them to think that the troop is going east instead of north?"

"Yes."

"Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?"

"That depends, what do you think I'm thinking?"

"I'm thinking that you want to convince everyone that the troop is going to the eastern part of the island and not to the old tidal inlet."

"Bingo."

"How?"

Skotak smiled and said, "Cousin Ben is taking care of it."

"He is?"

"Yes, and we're going to help."

"We are?" Deluca said.

"Yes, you me, Izod, Cousin Ben!" Skotak then told Deluca Cousin Ben's plan.

Deluca thought it over; It seemed meant to be: Runaway troop + Moon landing = Moonrise Kingdom. The troop had to get there and they had to help them.

"So what do we do?"

" _We're,_ going to go to the eastern side of the island and let Scoutmaster Ward and Captain Sharp find us."

"So they'll think that we're the troop so the real troop will make it without trouble?"

"Yes!"

"It's a shame that we have to pull the wool over Scoutmaster Ward and Captain Sharp's eyes…and Chef too."

"It is," Skotak said thoughtfully, "But it's for a good cause, don't you think?"

Deluca thought it over for a moment, nodded in agreement, then asked, "Ok, ok, what do you need?"

"Skotak answered rapid-fire, "For starters: A fully fueled generator, three motor boats, and the rest of the guys."

 **Supply Request Sheet**

 **Name:** Deluca

 **Items requested:** Generator-1, fuel-5 gallons, motor boats (three).

 _ **Little brothers sure can be a big pain:**_

 **Summer's End-**

"I brought you me," Sam said as he walked into the den on the second floor.

"How thoughtful," Suzy said with a smile.

"I want you to go for a walk in the woods with me."

"Alright," she said, "What's the occasion?"

"We just need to find someone and then hurry back."

"What's going on?"

Sam proceeded to tell her about Scott Sullivan.

"And once we find him I want to give him something, then we'll go and watch the astronauts."

"Let me get my binoculars, we still have a lot of daylight and I know they will help to find him."

"OK, good idea."

Suzy went to her room and to the shelves on the wall across from her bed. She grabbed her lefty scissors for any 'just in case' situation. She then looked up and saw that the binoculars weren't there. Frowning, she stepped onto her bed and looked up. In the spot where the binoculars normally were was an envelope. She reached for it. Opening it, she read the brief note.

 _Dead Suzy,_

 _I need to borrow your binoculars for the Hullabaloo. I will return them in ten days or less. Do not tell Mom (or Dad). I will return them when I get back._

 _Signed,_

 _Lionel Bishop._

Suzy folded the note and smiled at her brother's playful revenge for her actions of four years past.

"Little Brothers sure can be a big pain."

 _ **Former troopmates:**_

 **ST Jack Township-**

The sound of a motorcycle approaching caught the attention of the two apprentice mechanics. They paused their work replacing the radiator of the old Chevy pickup and watched as the motorcyclist stopped and dismounted. The rider removed his helmet and greeted the pair.

"Hi," said Deluca.

"Hi yourself," said Nickleby.

"What are you doing here?" asked Redford who put down his tools, wiped his hands with a rag, and walked to Deluca, hand extended.

Deluca shook the hand of his former troopmate. "I came to see you."

"Need some work on it?" Redford said as he visually inspected the motorcycle.

"No actually, I want you both to come with me."

"Where?" asked Nickleby who now closed in on Deluca with his hand extended.

Deluca shook Nickleby's hand and said, "The guys are getting back together."

"I know, you have the Hullabaloo this week."

"Yes, and I want you to come out."

"Why?" asked Redford, "We quit the Khaki Scouts."

"I know, but it's for old time sake."

"How so?" asked Nickleby.

"We're going to help some scouts."

"Why the hell for?" asked Redford.

"Yeah, why would we do that?" added Nickleby, "Can't you guys help them? There's enough Junior Scoutmasters there to help."

"It's about Troop 55."

The words hung in the air. The two mechanics looked at Deluca, then each other, and then to the clock on the wall. It was 4:55 p.m. Work was over in five minutes. The last time they had noticed the time was a little after 4:15 when Redford's dad told them to stop working and listen to the radio. There in the shop, the three listened as Walter Cronkite announced the landing. Now Mr. Redford was inside the office talking to his wife and telling her that he'd be home soon.

"Let us close up shop then will head over in the truck," said Redford, "I'll tell my folks that I have something important to do."

"We'll swing by my house and I'll tell my parents the same," added Nickleby.

Deluca grinned, "Great! But hurry up you two grease monkeys. Troop 55 doesn't have all day!"

The little act of rebellion was beginning.

 _ **A good luck charm:**_

 **Police Station/Sharp Residence-**

Sam and Suzy took Suzy and Lionel's bicycles, which Suzy had borrowed for a day or so, and rode out to the police station/Captain Sharp and Sam's trailer.

"I distinctly remember you mentioning a walk in the woods," Suzy said dryly.

"I remember that too," said Sam who got off the bike and went inside. The door closed behind him then opened a moment later. He stuck his head out, "I'll be right back."

A moment later he returned with something in his hand.

"Reliving your days as a Khaki Scout," Suzy asked with a smile.

"It's a good luck charm," Sam said while answering her smile with one of his own. He removed his ball cap and replaced it with the coonskin cap. He held out his hand to Suzy, "Ready?"

She moved the bike's kickstand down, stepped off, and took his hand, "Ready."

 _ **The meeting of the Old Troop 55:**_

 **Fort Lebanon-**

The original members of 1965's Troop 55 (sans Chef and Sam Shakusky) were seated at a table inside of the Supply and Resources Hut. Deluca, Izod, Nickleby, Redford, Gadge, Paneagle, Lazy Eye, and Roosevelt all sat chatting with one another. They were catching up with the two former Khaki Scouts. Their discussion then shifted to the matter at hand.

"I heard that Troop 55 hasn't been taking part in any events," said Paneagle.

"Maybe they got sick," ventured Gadge, "Anyone check the infirmary?"

"I heard they're on firework set up detail," said Roosevelt who sported a shiner on his right cheek from running into the bulletin board.

"That's not true," said Lazy Eye, "Troop 41 is doing that."

"With or without help?"

Before Lazy Eye could answer, the sound of something hitting wood caught their attention. Looking toward the sound they saw Skotak replacing the mallet on a shelf.

"You're probably all wondering why we're here."

"Yeah, why the hell are we here?" asked Nickleby.

"We're here for friendship. We're here because our fellow Khaki Scouts need our help. The new Troop 55 has heard about us and our adventure for years and now they've set off on an adventure of their own…but a search party may stop them." Skotak clasped his hands together, "This is an adventure that can bring a fractured troop back together. Plus this year's Hullabaloo is all about adventure, adventure that is inspired by the Moon landing." Skotak paused and looked to his friends, "Think about it Nickleby, Deluca, Lazy-Eye, Gadge, this is meant to be. They have to make their adventure happen so they can come back together as a troop. This is their Moonshot Summer. Are we man enough to help them come together in friendship again so the troop doesn't fall apart?"

The other young men looked to one another and discussed it amongst themselves.

Finally Redford spoke, "So what's the plan?"

"The plan," Skotak smiled and added, as he reached to the table behind him and grabbed two uniform tops. Tossing them to Redford and Nickleby he added, "Is for you two to be Khaki Scouts again for tonight, help us grab a television set, find Sam and Suzy, and come with us to New Penzance."


	14. The First Scout Law

**Chapter 14: The First Scout Law**

 _ **A Few hours to go:**_

 **The Woods, 2.5 miles from the former Mile 3.25 Tidal Inlet-**

Scott continued to wait. Walter Cronkite had earlier made the announcement of the successful landing of the Eagle Module and now the entire world was on a wait status. It would be several more hours until Neil Armstrong and Edwin 'Buzz' Aldrin descended from the lander and set foot on Earth's neighbor.

Scott took the time to relax. He was near the Old Chickchaw Harvest Migration Trail which wasn't too far off from his destination. Knowing this, he felt he could take time to rest up. He also took time to change his bandages, after cleaning out his cuts and scrapes, and to redress his wounds. He thought about changing his uniform, his shirt in particular, but decided to go on in his present state. No sense in risking dirtying another uniform. Besides, he kind of liked the way his uniform looked. It had personality.

It was tattered, stained, and missing the left arm. What damages it had were more than negated by the 'personality' that went with it. The uniform not only told the story of his time as a Khaki Scout, it also told the story of his adventure. He decided that once he had completed his mission and went home, that he would keep the uniform as is. It would be a reminder of his journey toward his rite of passage.

He broke out his mess kit and some food and proceeded to make himself a meal of canned tuna and bread. He actually felt like he had grown up some over the past few days. By taking off on his own he had to live by his wits and use the skills that he had gathered from the Khaki Scouts. Here he was, out on his own, doing something that most boys never did. This made him happy.

It had been a momentous day already for him. He had faced down his arch nemesis and had finally been told the truth about why Tucker had turned on him. He had felt numb but realized that he had done the right thing by offering Gregory Tucker his hand to pull him up. He hoped that his former friend would understand that he didn't hate him; never had, and they could put aside their differences and at least be civil.

Now, he focused his thoughts on the rest of his journey. However, he couldn't help but wonder about the rest of the troop. Where were they? What were they doing?

 _ **Owning up:**_

 **The mouth of the Wood River, 2 miles from Scott Sullivan-**

Following the episode between Sullivan and Tucker, the troop had withdrawn north eastward for an hour before stopping in their present position. They lay on the beach next to where the Wood River emptied into the Atlantic Ocean, all except Tucker who was leaning against his pack away from the others. The rest of the boys, for their part, were either eating quietly, or catching some sun.

"Has everyone eaten yet?" asked Doc.

Most of the boys replied yes except Puddle who was asleep and Tucker who didn't appear to want to talk.

"Yes…But I'm still a little hungry though," said Tripp who was busy changing his socks.

Doc saw the boy putting on new socks and asked the rest of the bunch, "Did everyone change their socks?"

"Yes mother," the McMillian boys replied for everyone.

"Just asking."

The group quieted.

Shortly Bishop asked the question that was on everyone's mind.

"What do we do now?"

The boys began to murmur to one another, seeking ideas. Puddle, awakened by the voices of the others, turned over and yawned.

"Hey Puddle," said Trigger, "What do you think we should do?"

"Do about what?"

"About our present situation," said Archer who stood up and stretched his legs.

"Um, dunno." Puddle looked around, replied, and pointed toward Tucker, "Maybe ask him."

"That might not be a good idea."

"Well what would you do?"

"Leave him alone."

"Yeah," Trigger jumped in, "He seems pretty pissed off."

"I would be to if I would be too if I just got my ass handed to me," said Archer.

"We have to do something," added Tripp.

"Talk to him Doc," said Bishop.

"Me?"

"Yeah you," said Archer.

"Fine, seeing as you are all too scared to…" Doc said.

The boys watched as Doc trodded over toward Tucker.

"Think Tucker will snap at him?" asked Tripp.

"Hope not," answered Bishop who took Suzy's binoculars and watched Tucker from 30 yards away.

Doc Kowalski walked toward Tucker and sat down five feet from him.

Tucker didn't seem to register the medic.

"Tucker?" No answer, "Tucker?" Nothing, "Tucker, are you with me?"

Doc moved a little bit closer and waved a hand in front if Tucker's face.

Silence.

Doc frowned then made a risky move: he was going to be straightforward.

"Look, I know you've had a rough time today, but you can't sit here and mope about it."

He waited for an angry reply but there was nothing so he continued. "What happened between your parents and Sullivan's parents is bad, but you can't let it keep you down…you have a troop to lead…you're our leader," Doc paused and added in a low voice, "We need you."

Tucker raised his head up and looked Doc in the eye. He took a deep breath, then spoke.

Bishop saw through the binoculars that the one way conversation become a two way conversation.

"Guys, Tucker is saying something!"

Doc heard Tucker say three words and was off to comply with Tucker's order-"Get the others."

Bishop saw Doc stand and turn toward them. Doc raised his right hand and beckoned them.

As one the boys stood and moved toward Tucker and Doc.

They took their seats on the sand and waited for Tucker to talk. It didn't take long at all.

Since the fight, Tucker had gone over in his head what he would do. He had been embarrassed and humiliated and had wanted to go back after Sullivan. However, it was Sullivan's gesture of helping him to his feet and asking him to let him be that had changed his mind. When he looked in Sullivan's eyes he didn't see anger or animosity but rather kindness and forgiveness.

By helping him up, Sullivan had extended an olive branch. Sullivan didn't want to fight and didn't want to hate him. This made Tucker realize that he was in the wrong. How could he hate Sullivan for something that he hadn't done? He blamed him for no reason and in turn had become the bad guy. If Sullivan saw him as that then he could only imagine how the others viewed him. He was their unofficial leader and they all looked to him for guidance. He looked around and saw that they were once again looking to him for guidance.

He'd give them that.

He took a deep breath and spoke, "I've been a jerk. I admit it. I've been a mean jerk. I let my anger get the better of me and I took it out on Sullivan."

"We understand," Doc said awkwardly.

The others nodded.

"I broke the First Scout Law," Tucker said then began to recite it, "Every Scout is your brother, regardless of who he is…"

The rest of the boys joined in, "You will be unwavering and straight forward in solidarity which must bind together all members of the same troop."

Tucker smiled remorsefully, "I haven't been the best scout have I?"

"No one is ever the _best_ scout," said Puddle.

"Listen, here's what I want you guys to do…I want you all to go back to Camp Ivanhoe, grab the canoes, and head back."

"What about you?" asked Bishop.

"I'm going to go find Sullivan and apologize."

Tucker stood and slung his pack over his shoulders.

"No," said Doc.

Tucker looked at him and said, "No? No what?"

"We're not going back now and you're not going it alone."

"You guys can't stay here."

"The hell we can't," said Archer, "We treated him poorly too, we should make up for it."

"If you and Sullivan are going to get in trouble…" Trigger said.

The twins looked at one another for a moment and then to Tucker. They said as one, "Then we all are!"

"Yeah, we came all the way out here as a troop to find him," Tripp said, "So let's find him!"

"This Hullabaloo is all about adventure!" said Puddle, "This is _our_ adventure!"

"So let's find him and finish this adventure as a troop!" said Bishop.

Tucker looked from expectant face to expectant face. They weren't angry at him for his mistreatment of Sullivan. Neither were they looking down on him for the status of his family life. They still viewed him as their leader and they were behind him 100 percent.

He smiled at them in pride.

"Alright you bastards, let's go find our friend…and be ready in five! I mean it this time!"

The boys grinned and scurried off toward their gear.


	15. The King and Queen

**Chapter 15: The King and Queen**

 _ **A Walk in the Woods:**_

 **The Woods-**

The King and Queen of Moonrise Kingdom walked hand in hand through the woods in the late summer afternoon. The walks they took were mostly silent; at first they would talk, but as they went on, they would quiet and enjoyed the sights and sounds of the island. Most of all though, they enjoyed being together. Five years after meeting at ST. Jack's Church's annual performance of Noye's Fludd, and four years after their legendary trek to what became known as Moonrise Kingdom, the affection they shared for one another had stayed strong.

Although they had taken many long walks together, they had never returned to their kingdom, for it was a lost kingdom. A day after they had been taken away from their realm, the Great Storm of the 5th of September, 1965, had washed Mile 3.25 Tidal Inlet out of existence. With the spot radically altered by nature they were left with just their memories and the painting of their kingdom that Sam had made. Thus, they decided to never set foot there again.

They were however, heading in the general direction of their lost kingdom. In an ironic twist, the two former runaways were now searching for a runaway. They were certain that the missing scout, one Scott B. Sullivan, would be heading that way.

As they had set out, Sam had told Suzy why he wanted to find the wayward scout.

"I was thinking," Sam started, "That maybe life is more than just a bunch of random things that happen. Maybe there's just a little too much coincidence for things to be completely random."

"Is that why we're out here?" Suzy replied with a playful smile.

"Yes."

"You think that there is more than simple randomness to this search?"

"You noticed his name right?" Sam said with a sly smile.

Suzy paused and then said, "Scott Sullivan. His initials are the same as yours."

Sam smiled, "He ran away and his troop is after him…my old troop."

"On the night of the Moon landing too," Suzy replied as she looked heaven-ward.

"But tonight the landing will be best viewed on the eastern end of the island."

"True."

"Which is where I think you and I should watch it from."

Suzy gave Sam a questioning look, "What about watching it on TV?"

"We can watch the Moon together," he answered with a little smile.

Suzy thought it over. It would be romantic for the two of them to sit on the sand, with the sound of the tide and the Moon and stars above. Just the two of them.

"You're so romantic," she said and then gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Is that a yes to my suggestion?"

She smiled, leaned close, and kissed him on the lips.

Pulling back she asked him, "What do you think?"

Sam just smiled.

 _ **Biding his time:**_

 **Scott Sullivan-**

Scott was a little over a mile from his destination and patiently waiting for word from NASA about the astronauts. He knew from the reports that the Eagle Module was currently stationed on the Sea of Tranquility and that Armstrong and Aldrin were preparing to set foot on the Moon. But for cripes sake, what was taking them so long? The anticipation was wearing the scout down. He was a naturally patient person but this was bordering on the extreme.

He looked at his watch: **5:47 p.m.** It was already late afternoon and Armstrong and Aldrin had been on the Moon for almost an hour and a half. What was taking them so long?

"C'mon guys," Scott said as he heard the news that the crew was already preparing to launch and rendezvous with Michael Collins and the Lunar Orbiter, "Hurry up and get out there!"

A rumbling in his stomach told him it was time to eat. He withdrew a pack of C-Rations and proceeded to fix himself a meal. Then something crossed his mind; something that he hadn't thought of before: If the Troop was still on the Island, then where was Scoutmaster Ward?

 _ **Biding their time:**_

 **Camp Ivanhoe-**

Scoutmaster Ward and Chef sat inside the scoutmaster's tent and waited for word from Fort Lebanon. After Sharp and Shakusky had left, the two had decided to sit tight and wait until nightfall. After speaking with Scoutmaster Mazursky, AKA Cousin Ben, they were certain that the runaway troop would be out of the woods and on the eastern shore tonight.

"I'm glad this is happening now," said Ward.

"What do you mean?" asked Chef.

"If the landing wasn't taking place, someone might have noticed that they were gone. With all of this excitement and more troops in attendance than last year, their secret might have gotten out."

"Do you think it'll still be unnoticed?"

"I hope so," said Ward who added, "Commander Pierce reinstated me after the original troop ran off but I don't think he'd be willing to do it again."

"If you're not at the fort either, then maybe he would think that you took the troop out so they wouldn't be lost…that is if he even finds out you're not there."

"True. I suppose I could have been so busy that I had forgotten to swing by the command tent and sign the troop out for the day."

"If no one's picked up on it by now, maybe no one will."

"Good thing Scoutmaster Mazursky is running the command tent now."

"If they really are coming this way, then they would have to know exactly when the astronauts are going to set foot on the Moon."

"Bishop has a wind-up radio," said Ward, "He's been listening to it since the Hullabaloo started."

"Maybe we should too. That way we won't miss out on it."

"Good idea," said Ward, "Besides, they might be timing their arrival on the tip of the island for that time."

 _ **Covering Down:**_

 **Fort Lebanon-**

"Sir, I just noticed in the log book that Scoutmaster Ward's troop hasn't been taking part in any activities," said Secretary McIntire.

Commander Pierce looked up from his desk in the camp administration with an alarmed look, "Where is that bimbo?"

McIntire arched an eyebrow at that last word and thought to himself, _after all of these years he still hasn't figured out what a bimbo really is._ "Uh, I'd have to check with his cabin mates."

"If his troop is off gallivanting again like the last time then I am going to have his badge for breakfast!"

Just then Cousin Ben walked into the office, sunglasses on despite being indoors.

"Have you seen Ward and his Troop?" asked McIntire.

"Have I seen Ward and his Troop?" Cousin Ben repeated. He then looked at Commander Pierce, "He's asking if I've seen Ward and his Troop."

"Well, have you?" asked the commander.

"According to the log book in the command tent," McIntire began, "They haven't been taking part in any activities."

To others in this situation, it would seem that the jig was up. However, Scoutmaster Ben Mazursky was not just anybody. He had been blessed with a unique habit to formulate explanations on a moment's notice.

"That's what skipped my mind!" he said as he simultaneously snapped his fingers.

"What skipped your mind?" asked Pierce.

"He asked me to sign his troop out so they can join the old Troop 55."

"In doing what? I haven't been told anything about this!" Pierce roared.

McIntire took a step back.

Cousin Ben was unfazed by the commander's tone. "The town Librarian is going to be hosting a viewing on the beach at the eastern end of New Penzance Island tonight. He is going to give a lecture on lunar facts while we watch the astronauts land."

"How are you going to watch the landing from the beach?" asked McIntire.

"Modern technology my friend."

"And who's authority do they have for this?" asked Pierce.

"The Librarian said that he would be more than welcome to have a couple of troops there," Cousin Ben began in a rapid-fire manner of speaking (not unlike the McMillan Twins), he's happy that you have invited him out here to give classes to the troops every year and it would be nice to let him have a few troops go with him tonight…it'd be a shame to have to cancel on him, especially after all he is doing to get the site set up for tonight."

Pierce glowered for a moment and thought about it: the Librarian had been a tremendous help to many boys over the years. His impromptu classes and lectures had helped many earn various accomplishment buttons. I would be a good thing to have a few troops of boys go out and be at the point of the island that would be closest to the moon. Besides, Ward had never asked for anything in return for saving him during the storm.

"OK Scoutmaster Mazursky, Ward can take both old and new Troop 55 to the island…just make sure they're practicing safety and not getting into trouble."

"Will do Sir," Mazursky said then turned and left the office. He stopped by the Command Tent and tapped a message to Camp Ivanhoe. He then headed of in search of the Librarian to let him in on the plan.

 _ **Message:**_

 **Camp Ivanhoe-**

Scoutmaster Ward's ears pricked up at the sound of an incoming message being tapped out in Morse Code.

"Is that…?" asked Chef who then paused as Ward nodded and rushed off to his tent.

A few moments later the scoutmaster came out and said, "Jiminy Crickett! I sure owe Mazursky one!"

"What's going on?"

"Commander Pierce found out that the troop is missing."

Chef's eyes went wide, "Oh no…"

"On top of that the old Troop is missing."

"Oh boy," was all Chef could say.

"Here," Ward handed Chef the transcribed message.

Chef took in the contents of the message for a few moments and then smiled. "I think we both owe him!"

The two laughed, then Ward went to his radio to inform Captain Sharp and Deputy Shakusky of the plan.

 _ **Radio transmission:**_

 **Stone Cove-**

Out at Stone Cove Edgar was cleaning a couple of fish that he had caught. It was his and Captain Sharp's dinner for tonight. As for Sam…well there were only two so the lad would have to fend for himself.

Edgar smiled at the thought of the boy. The kid was resourceful, having never lost the skills he had learned in the Khaki Scouts. He knew the boy was liable to return with a fish of his own. Or the boy and his girlfriend could get something at her house. Either way, Sam Shakusky gave no worries to either Edgar or Sharp.

"It's days like these that make me consider retirement," Sharp said to Edgar.

The old fisherman looked at his nephew and said, "Can't yet, kid ain't old nuff."

Sharp smiled, "Still, I can't believe he's been here almost four years."

"Give em' two or three years, then he could go to the academy…then next thing you'll know he'll have your job."

"Then you and I could spend all day fishing." All of a sudden Edgar's ears pricked up. Even though he was getting up there in age, his hearing was still that of a young man. The years spent in boiler rooms in the Navy and then later on commercial fishing vessels had barely made a dent in his eardrums. "Sounds like someone is hailing you."

Sharp looked in the direction of the small hut on the end of the pier, "I'll be right back."

Minutes later he was out of the hut.

"Somethin important?" asked Edgar.

"What do you think about going to the eastern end of the island tonight?"

 _ **I almost forgot something!:**_

 **Fort Lebanon-**

There was a bustle of activity was going on at the docks of the fort. A group of teenage boys were busy loading a fishing boat and two motorboats with a variety of items. The fishing boat, owned by Deluca's dad had just pulled up; the elder Deluca, a former Khaki Scout himself, had agreed to lend his boat to his son and the scouts after having been told of the current situation.

"I want her back in one piece kiddo," Mr. Deluca said to his son.

"You don't have to worry about a thing Dad," replied the younger Deluca with a confident smile.

"You break it, you buy it," Mr. Deluca said with a stone-cold seriousness.

"No problem," said Deluca with a little less confidence in his voice.

"Keys?"

"What?"

Mr. Deluca stuck his hand out, "How do you expect me to get home? Walk?"

"Oh yeah," Deluca pulled the motorcycle keys out of his pocket and handed them to his dad, "Tell Mom I said hi."

"Will do…and make sure you take care of her."

Deluca looked at the 26-foot _Sally Ann,_ named after his mother, and said, "Will do Dad."

Mr. Deluca lifted the sunglasses off of his son's head and donned them, "Don't you boys have _too much fun_ tonight."

The boys of Old Troop 55 assured him that they wouldn't then laughed. Mr. Deluca smiled, turned and walked off to the motorcycle. He donned the helmet, started it, and rode off toward the road.

"Your Dad is the best," said Paneagle.

"That he is," replied Deluca.

For the next 15 minutes the boys, now joined by Cousin Ben, proceeded to get the boats loaded up with the gear for tonight: folding chairs, a barbecue brought along by Nickleby and Redford, charcoal, a 50-foot power cable, coolers with food and drinks, firewood, and a television set.

"Do you think we have everything," asked Roosevelt who handed Gadge the last armful of firewood.

"Looks like it," said Gadge who looked over his shoulder at Skotak, "Skotak, is that everything?"

The Supply and Resources scout looked at his inventory sheet and then at all of the items before giving his answer.

"Yes, that's everything."

"Good, let's get this show on the road…I mean water," said Lazy-Eye who looked at his friends with one eye while the other was aimed off to the right. Actually, both eyes saw his friends but his lazy-eye (technically his condition was known as Strabismus) made it appear that he was looking in two different directions.

"You should wear a patch for this," said Izod with a laugh.

Lazy-Eye frowned, "Izod, you know damn well that I haven't worn one in years."

"You should put one on," Izod replied, "For old-time's sake!"

Lazy-Eye looked at the expectant faces of his friends, "Oh alright. Just this once." He then went into the cabin of the _Sally Ann_ and returned a minute later with a gauze patch from the first aid kit taped over his left eye. "Happy now?"

"Happy," Roosevelt, Gadge, and Skotak replied.

As Redford assisted Nickleby in hefting the barbecue onto the boat, he paused, "I still can't believe we're in these again," he said as he looked down at the uniform top that he was wearing. It had been years since he and Nickleby had worn them.

"Seems like old times doesn't it?" Nickleby replied.

"It does," Redford said and then smiled as he noticed that Nickleby's shirttails were untucked, "I see you still have uniform violations."

Nickleby looked down at his uniform top and shrugged, "Old habits die hard."

"Guess it couldn't be helped."

"Hey Troopers," said Cousin Ben, "Are we ready to cast off or what? Daylight's wasting."

"We're ready," answered Deluca who fired up the boat's engine.

"Wait!" said Skotak, "I almost forgot something!"

"What?" asked Roosevelt.

"An extra uniform top."

"Leave it!" said Deluca.

"I can't," Skotak said as he ran back toward the Supply and Resources building, "He'll need it!"

 _ **Tripp lives up to his name:**_

 **The Woods-2.75 miles from the former Mile 3.25 Tidal Inlet-**

"You've gotta be kiddin' me Tripp!" said Tucker as he looked and saw the fallen scout that was currently lying on his back.

Tripp had been maneuvering through the trees with his fellow scouts, as sure footed as a deer, and had been having no problem negotiating the rugged terrain. Looking back, he had had no mishaps since the Hullabaloo had started. Normally, something would have gone wrong, not all the time but most of the time. Usually he would jam a finger playing basketball or accidentally hit his thumb while constructing a birdhouse, or have his allergies act up. However, everything had gone well…until a few seconds ago.

Whilst walking among the trees, he had saw a flash of movement on a tree to his right. He looked and saw a gray squirrel climbing up toward a branch above his head. He then looked back and saw a low hanging branch right in front of his eye. He jumped out of the way to avoid injury, lost his footing, hit a rock, stumbled to his right, fell onto his side, and then rolled onto his back.

"Oh for cripes sake what now Tripp?" said Archer.

"Tripp!" called Doc as he trotted over, "Are you okay?"

Tripp attempted to roll over and then winced in pain, "OW!"

"I knew it," Archer said under his breath, "There was no way he was going to get through the Hullabaloo without something happening."

"I tripped!" said Tripp.

"This is ironic," said Trigger, "You just lived up to your name…again."

The other boys laughed except Doc.

"Guys, this is not funny," said Doc, "He could be hurt bad."

"He's right," said Trigger, "It only funny until someone gets hurt."

"Then its hysterical," added Archer.

Both giggled.

"Dammit you too!" Doc snapped, "I'm serious!"

The McMillan twins stopped laughing. Serious expressions clouded their faces.

"We'll help carry him," said Archer.

"It's the least we can do," added Trigger.

"To make up for it," they both said.

"Thanks guys," said Tripp as he sat up.

"How bad does it look Doc?" asked Puddle.

"Yeah, do you think it's a sprain or something worse?" asked Bishop.

Doc examined his patient. He lightly patted the fallen scout's right leg until the boy winced.

"Is that the spot?"

"Yes."

Doc saw that it was already beginning to swell. He felt around more, wiped away some blood from a cut, and was relieved to see that there was no bone sticking out.

"The good news is that its not a compound fracture…nor does it appear to be a fracture of any kind."

"So, it's not broken?" asked Tucker.

"I don't think so," I've seen a broken leg before when my cousin broke his and this doesn't look like that. I think it's a sprain."

"If it's a sprain," said Bishop, "Then it's going to be tough for you to keep going Tripp."

"We may have to see about getting you over to someone's house," Archer said, "There's a dirt road about 75 yards from here. There's bound to be someone living near."

"He's right," said Trigger, "You need to get that looked at."

"OK guys," said Tucker, "We're going to go to the road and see if we can find help. Tripp, sorry bud, but we need to get you off your feet. We can find someone to take you back to the fort."

"No dammit!" I can make it!"

"Tripp, you have an arm in a sling and an ankle that's swelling," said Doc, "You need a doctor."

Tripp looked defiantly at his fellow scouts, took a deep breath, pulled his arms from the straps of his pack, and rolled to his side. The boys watched as he went to his knees, placed his left leg in front of him, reached a nearby tree with his right arm, and pulled himself up. He took a slow and cautious step on his bad leg, winced, and then took another.

He proceeded to walk around the tree five times and then said, "Somebody get me a stick."

The boys looked around. Bishop saw a fallen limb that looked straight enough and sturdy. He grabbed it and handed it to Tripp.

The injured boy propped himself up on it and took a few steps before proclaiming, "This'll do," he then looked to the twins, "You two jokers can take turns carrying my pack."

"Yes Sir," they replied.

"Tripp," said Tucker, "You know you don't have to do this."

Tripp looked him in the eye and said, "You're the one who said for us _bastards_ to go and find our friend, so let's go find him…you _bastard_."

Tucker's eyes went wide in response to the normally easy-going scout's new found attitude. A moment later he smiled, "You heard the man, let's go find our friend!"

 _ **A Chance Encounter:**_

 **The Woods/Scott-**

No word yet from Mission Control on Armstrong and Aldrin exiting the Eagle Module. Scott had been listening to the radio for a few minutes with breaks in between so as to recharge the wind-up device. Unfortunately for him, the astronauts seemed to be in no hurry to get out of their little vessel.

Scott felt antsy, he was so close to his destination yet so far away. He needed a cigarette. He pulled out his second to last Lucky Strike, lit a match, and took a puff. It calmed him a bit and he wondered (not for the first time) if he should keep up the habit or put it off until he was old enough to legally purchase them.

He was now down to his final cigarette. That one he would save until he set foot on Moonrise Kingdom.

A bulletin came in over the radio: the announcer stated that the astronauts would not be setting foot on the Moon until approximately 0500 hours Greenwich Mean Time.

Scott rolled his eyes. His Khaki Scout experience included knowing what GMT was in relation to the eastern US. 0500 GMT equated to 2300 EST which in turn translated to 11:00 p.m. He still had a few hours.

"C'mon guys! This is taking too long!" Astronaut Scott B. Sullivan said aloud.

If he was up there, he'd have been out and about on the Moon since the moment he landed.

Feeling even more restless, he decided to go for a short walk. He needed something to do to pass the time before the astronauts set foot on the Moon.

Scott grabbed Paneagle's Club and walked to his southwest, toward a dirt lane that was less than 20 yards away. As he headed toward the lane, movement caught his attention. People were walking down the lane. He quickly dropped down to a crouch behind a large bush and hoped he hadn't been seen.

 **Sam and Suzy-**

The two teenagers continued their quiet walk. They enjoyed listening to the sounds of their steps over the dirt of the trails and the fallen leaves of last year. In silence, they could also take in the sounds of birds chirping and squirrels rustling about. They loved taking in the air, a mix of old-growth pine and salty sea scent, that abounded on the island. It was their own little piece of heaven.

Now however, something caught their attention. There was a sound of rusting and, out of the corner of Suzy's right eye, a flash of movement among the trees.

Suzy turned her head and looked in the direction of movement.

Sam followed suit and gazed into the tree line. He studied the area and finally noticed something out of the ordinary. It was smell…tobacco. Someone was smoking.

Suzy identified the scent too, "Tobacco."

Sam nodded, "Hmmm, interesting."

 **Scott-**

"Shit," Scott swore under his breath as he realized that he had been seen. He had given himself away somehow.

He leaned to the right and looked from the side of the bush. There were two people on the lane, a teenage boy and girl from the looks of it. He focused on them and saw that they looked familiar.

The girl had long, dark brown hair and wore a serious expression on her face while a coonskin cap sat atop the head of the bespectacled boy.

Both looked familiar…then it dawned on him, he was looking at Suzy Bishop and Sam Shakusky!

By chance the two, who he had only seen from a distance, were out here in the woods too!

The two gazed in his direction and locked eyes on him. They then looked to one another, then back in his direction, and slowly walked toward him.

 _ **Once in a Lifetime Event:**_

 **The Eastern shore of the Island of New Penzance-**

 _The town librarian stands on the beach on the eastern end of the island, a three-foot long telescope next to him. Behind him, a group of current and former Khaki Scouts are offloading a fishing boat and two motorboats._

"I am currently standing on Land's End, the easternmost tip of the Island of New Penzance. Behind me are a group of former members of Khaki Scouts of North America Troop 55, made famous by the events of the Fifth of September 1965."

The Librarian looks upward. Above and to the east is Earth's only natural satellite.

"The waxing crescent of the Moon is approximately 387,337.28 kilometers from Earth. Today's moonrise was at 11:56 this morning with a transit of 5:58 p.m. and will set at 11:55 p.m. The time is currently 7:03 p.m. Eastern Standard Time on July 20th 1969. On this once in a lifetime event, the Astronauts of Apollo 11 are scheduled to descend from the Eagle Landing Module shortly before 11 p.m. In the meantime, a group of different Troop 55 scouts are approaching the culmination of their Hullabaloo and their rite of passage."

"Hey has anyone thought about going to get Shakusky and his girl," asked Paneagle as he and Izod prepared to grab the generator from Deluca and Gadge.

The three other boys conversed about this and replied with shrugs.

"Yeah, somebody needs to go get them," said Roosevelt who clambered onto the deck and pulled two five-gallon fuel cans out. "Hey Skotak, shouldn't someone go and get Shakusky and his girl?" He then said quietly under his breath, "I like his girl." Roosevelt always did have a liking for Suzy but decided that it was better to be friends with her than try to come between she and Sam. Besides, overtime his puppy love toward her had morphed into genuine friendship and he was perfectly happy with that. Then there was the fact that he harbored a crush on Suzy's friend Isabella. He was going to have to talk to Suzy about her, maybe Isabella would like to go see a movie sometime.

"We need a volunteer," said Skotak who looked around and saw Nickleby and Redford struggling to offload the barbecue, "Or volunteers."

 _ **A Talk in the Woods:**_

 **Scott and Sam and Suzy-**

Scott stood up and watched as the two approached him. Even though New Penzance wasn't heavily populated, he had never interacted with Sam and Suzy. He had seen Sam out on patrol with Captain Sharp before. He had also been to the Bishop residence once with the rest of the troop last summer. There he had seen both Suzy as well as Sam's painting of the lost Moonrise Kingdom, but he had never talked to her.

Now the couple were coming toward him. Faced with the prospect of speaking with them, he became nervous, his knees shook slightly and his mouth went dry. What would he say to them?

"Hello Scott," Suzy said as she and Sam came before the young scout.

"Uh…um…hi?" Scott answered, more as a question than as a reply.

"Hello," Sam said and looked the scout up and down. "We're you in a fight?"

Suzy too had noticed that the boy had some bruises and a tattered uniform that was missing an entire arm. He also carried a familiar looking club, "Are you alright?"

"Um, I had a little trouble along Rickety Shoals," he answered, "And a little trouble with someone."

"Hmmm," went Sam as he analyzed the scout, "I see you have Paneagle's Club."

"Uh-huh."

There were a few moments of silence between the trio which was then broken by Suzy.

"If you're doing orienteering for the Hullabaloo, then I think you're a little off course. Saint Jack Wood is the next island over."

"Um, right," Scott answered then blurted out the obvious, "You're Suzy Bishop, Lionel's sister."

"And you're Scott Sullivan."

"Yeah," he answered nervously, "Wait, how'd you know?"

"We received word that you ran away," said Sam.

"Oh, oh yeah…I guess you would have…Sa-Deputy Shakusky."

Sam smiled at the boy's nervousness, "You can call me Sam…I'm off duty."

The wry comment made Scott laugh. Then it hit him: he had always wanted to meet the two of them and talk with them but now his mind was totally blank. He had found their story so inspiring that it was a driving factor in his choice to run off but he had no real idea what to say to either of them!

He just stood their grinning like an idiot.

"So, care to tell us why you're running around in the woods?" asked Suzy.

Scott smiled, took a breath, and then continued, "Ever since I first joined the Khaki Scouts, I've heard about you. You're a legend…both of you."

Sam and Suzy looked to one another and smiled.

"Here that Sam, we're legends."

"And here I thought we were just runaways."

Scott couldn't help but giggle at the remark.

"Do you know where the rest of your troop is?" asked Suzy.

"I have no idea."

"Scoutmaster Ward and Captain Sharp are looking for you, ya know?" said Sam.

Scott felt a rush of guilt and looked down at his hiking boots, "I know…I'm sorry if I got everyone all wound up."

"When we ran away," Sam started, "We knew that we'd be in trouble and that people would come looking for us, but we did it anyway."

"We just wanted to be together," Suzy added.

"You met at Saint Jack's Church right?" asked Scott.

"Yes, during our production of Noye's Fludd."

"She was a raven," said Sam.

"I got in trouble, then after that I was only a blue jay."

"I heard how you two ran off and how Troop 55 went after you," Scott said.

"Kind of like how you ran off and Troop 55 is after you," said Sam with a little smile.

"Oh yeah…about that."

"Want to talk about it?" asked Suzy.

"You already know our story," said Sam, "Tell us yours."

Scott looked around and saw a small boulder. He went to it and took a seat. Sam and Suzy walked toward him and looked at him with expectant faces.

Scott took a deep breath, then spoke.

"My home life is falling apart," at this he lowered his head and continued, "My parents are going to get a divorce…I think. They hardly speak to one another and they're never nice to each other. It's been bothering me a lot. I just needed to get away."

"I guess Suzy and I did too," Sam said.

Scott looked up at the pair and gave a little smile, "I always heard about your adventure. The theme for this year's Hullabaloo is Adventure…but I've never had an adventure…so this summer I decided to make one happen."

"Go on," said Suzy.

""You see, the Hullabaloo was moved from September to July to mark the Apollo Mission. The astronauts are having the greatest adventure of all and we'll be celebrating it. So I wanted to have my own adventure, kind of like a rite of passage. I figured that if they're going to the Moon, then I can go to a different kind of moon-Moonrise Kingdom."

Sam and Suzy exchanged glances then looked back at the scout.

"It's gone," said Suzy.

"The storm swept it away."

"I know," said Scott, "But that's not the point. I wanted to go out there and have this great big adventure of my own. So I borrowed Lionel's radio so I could listen to the news about the mission. Then I took off to reach Moonrise Kingdom by the time they set foot on the Moon. Think about it: Moon landing and Moonrise Kingdom. Maybe it's meant to be."

"I think it is," said Sam.

Scott smiled again and continued, "Sometimes I think things happen for a reason and that in a way I'm a part of something bigger than myself. It's like I'm traveling with the astronauts." Scott straighten himself up and said, "Astronaut Scott Brendon Sullivan, NASA. And to top it off, here I am with the King and Queen of Moonrise Kingdom!"

Sam and Suzy joined hands and smiled at one another and then at Scott.

"That's very romantic Scott," Suzy said.

"You know, things don't have to have romance to be romantic, they just have to have a little daring."

"And you're very daring," said Suzy.

"I think I was meant to do this."

"It sounds similar to what happened to us," Sam said, "Running off, going on an adventure, being chased. I think you're right, this is your adventure."

"But maybe you should share it with someone," said Suzy, "Maybe with your troopmates."

Scott looked away, "Nah, they don't want me around."

"Why is that?" Sam asked.

"Greg Tucker turned the guys against me and now they don't want me around. He used to be my best friend but now he hates me."

"Why is that?"

Scott looked back to the ground for a few moments before continuing with a slight tremble in his voice. "My dad had an affair with Greg's mom...He was my best friend and then he didn't want to be friends. He started hating me and got the rest of the guy to turn their backs on me."

"Even Lionel?" asked Suzy.

"No, Bishop-Lionel, never treated me bad but, but I just got the feeling I wasn't wanted around anymore. They all fell in line with Tucker and I was the odd-man out. I never knew why until they found me and Tucker and I got in a fight. That's when I found out about everything. You see, his parents got divorced and now his home life is miserable too."

"We understand," said Suzy, "We both had problems in our home lives but we overcame them."

"And you can too."

"Greg and I got into a fight," Scott said, "I ended up winning…barely, but I don't hate him. I don't even want to hate at all. I feel bad for him. Even though he turned against me, I can't seem to bring myself to hate him."

"I know the feeling," said Sam, "There was a guy like Greg who treated me pretty bad. He came after Suzy and I and then Suzy stabbed him in the back with a pair of lefty scissors. Now we're all pretty close friends."

"He even forgave me for stabbing him…and we forgave him for being a jerk," Suzy added.

"Redford right?"

"Yes."

"Maybe you and Greg can put your differences aside and be friends again," said Sam, "And the whole troop."

"Just like what happened with Sam and the troop," said Suzy.

"Exactly!" said Sam, "By the way, I think Roosevelt still has a slight crush on you."

"Does it bother you?" Suzy asked playfully.

"Not at all, he's a loyal friend plus I think he likes Isabella."

"Who's she?" asked Scott.

"She's a friend of mine," said Suzy, "She was with me in Noye's Fludd. She played an owl."

"She passed a note from Suzy to me."

Scott giggled and then asked the pair, "Do you think that maybe I'm supposed to share this adventure?"

"They're already out here in the woods looking for you," said Suzy, "So they're having their own adventure too."

"Maybe you and the troop could finish your adventures together."

Scott quietly thought this out and then spoke.

"According to the bulletin from NASA, the astronauts are supposed to set foot on the Moon around 11:00 p.m."

Sam, consulted his watch and saw that it was 7:43 p.m. "You've got a little more than three hours to find them then."

Scott stood up, "Then I better get a move on. There's no telling where they are."

"Then you better get going," said Suzy.

"Yeah," Scott replied. Then a thought occurred to him, "Why don't you come with me?"

Both Sam and Suzy smiled sadly at Scott.

"Suzy and I made a promise that we would never go back," said Sam.

"You see, it's all gone now. It's not like it was when we were there," said Suzy.

"We want to remember it as it was," replied Sam, "Not as it is."

"All we have is our memory of it…and the painting."

Sam took Suzy's hand and gently squeezed it, "And each other."

Scott smiled at them. They were right, they couldn't go back. It was up to him to forge ahead.

"Go and find you own kingdom there," said Suzy.

"And maybe find the others too," Scott said.

Suzy let go of Sam's hand, walked up to Scott, and kissed him softly on the cheek, "Your kingdom awaits."

Scott felt the rush of heat as he blushed. He smiled, turned around, and walked toward his gear.

"Wait," said Sam.

Scott stopped and turned.

Sam came to his side. The older boy removed his coonskin cap and placed it on the younger boy's head.

"It fits you perfectly," Suzy said.

"I'll get it back to you as soon as possible!" Scott said in awe of the fact that he was wearing Sam's trademark cap.

"Keep it, it's yours," said Sam.

"I can't…I can't keep this. It belongs to you."

"Somehow, I think you need it more than I do," Sam replied with a smile, "Besides, if _fits_ you. Now, go and continue your adventure Fieldmate Sullivan.

Scott quickly snapped to attention and gave Sam the Khaki Scout salute.

Sam reciprocated the honor.

Scott turned and jotted over to his gear.

Sam and Suzy joined hands and returned to the lane.

Scott threw on his pack and the turned around to see Sam and Suzy.

He watched as the two monarchs of a lost kingdom disappeared into the fading light, then continued his adventure.


	16. This is Our Land!

**Chapter 16: This is Our Land!**

 _ **Hustle and Bustle:**_

 **Fort Lebanon 7:38 p.m.-**

The fort was a hustle and bustle of activity throughout the entire day. Scouts had been continuing with their events and competitions (Troop 59 took home the capture the flag trophy) and now they were anxiously awaiting Man's first steps on the Moon.

The Mess Hall had been rearranged to allow the scouts to sit facing the raised stage along the far wall of the hall. Upon it sat three televisions that had been set up for the scouts to watch the Mission. Throughout the day, scouts and staff have been coming and going through the hall to watch. They had to balance this between swim competitions, a pass and review, and a variety of other events that tested the skills and can-do attitudes of the campers.

Right now, Troop 53's Ethan 'Turtle' Richardson and Daryl Fox, best friends since kindergarten, finished with the night's table set up. A midnight snack of juices, 'smores, and other goodies would be provided to the scouts to enjoy as the night progressed. They, along with the rest of their troop had been tagged with the set-up detail.

"Do ya think they're going to get out and walk around soon," asked Turtle, "Or are we going to have to wait 12 more hours?"

Fox, just finished with setting down the last of the napkins, raised his camera and snapped a picture of the now recovered Herman 'Lucky' Luckner-currently carrying a tray of snacks, and replied, "The astronauts only have a limited amount of oxygen available to them in the lander. They will need to reunite with the Columbia module as quickly as possible. Therefore, I imagine that Armstrong and Aldrin will have to exit the lander, spend a limited amount of time on the surface, and join Collins within the next twelve hours. So…to answer your question…we may have to wait twelve hours."

Turtle rolled his eyes at his friend's answer and said, "That is such a typical answer for you. You can't give a short answer to anything."

"True," replied Fox who added, "That was a one word answer by the way."

Turtle rolled his eyes, "Funny, very funny."

"Hey fellas," said Spinner Robinson, "Any idea on when they're going to get out and walk?"

Turtle looked to Fox, "You wanna take this?"

Fox smiled and gave Spinner his answer.

 _ **This'll be a surprise:**_

 **The Ward Residence, 7:40 p.m.**

Sharp and Edgar pulled up in front of the two-story house on Anderson Lane. On the way over, Sharp had commented to his uncle that Mrs. Ward would be missing out on the excitement on the beach.

"Why don'tcha stop over there and pick her up?" asked Edgar.

"She's at home with Randy Junior and is expecting," Sharp replied.

"She's going to miss out on all the excitement."

"The Wards have a television."

"So do the boys on the beach."

Sharp thought it over; Ward had informed him that the Old Troop 55 along with Scoutmaster Mazursky were setting up shot on the eastern end of the island to have a viewing party. A party that included a generator-powered TV so they could watch the Apollo Mission. _If_ they asked Becky Ward to go with them, and _if_ she agreed, then she and her young son could watch the landing with Randy Ward.

Sharp made his decision: he'd ask her to climb into the patrol car and go with them.

A few moments after he knocked, the door opened to reveal Mrs. Ward.

"Captain Sharp," she said, "What brings you by?" She stiffened a moment and then said, "Is everything alright?"

"No reason to be alarmed Becky, we're on our way to the eastern end of the island. Randy is out there with some scouts to celebrate the mission."

"What's he doing out there? The Hullabaloo is on ST. Jack Wood."

"They're doing a special viewing with the town librarian to mark the occasion."

"He didn't mention it to me."

"It's a spur of the moment deal," Sharp said then added, "Edgar and I are on our way there, want to go?"

Becky Ward thought it over for a few seconds, then said, "Let me grab my Junior and my purse."

 _ **Peace and Quiet:**_

 **Summer's End, 7:43 p.m.-**

Walt Bishop lay prostrate on the couch and enjoyed the peace and quiet as Walter Cronkite gave an update on the astronauts' status: They were still waiting to exit the lander.

"What is taking them so long," he said to Wes who lay on his feet, "If they keep taking their time, I'm going to have to go find a tree to chop down."

"WALT!" came Laura's voice through her megaphone."

"WHAT!" he called out in a loud voice, "WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME?"

Laura appeared in the living room. "Does it concern you that your daughter hasn't been home since this afternoon?"

"That's a loaded question."

"She went with Sam and hasn't been back."

"So, they're probably doing something romantic to celebrate."

"Do you know what that means?"

"That they're behaving like typical teenagers?"

"Since when have they _ever_ acted like typical teenagers?"

"That's a good question."

"This means that we finally have the house to ourselves."

Walt thought it over. It had been a while since the two of them had the place to themselves. Suzy was with Sam and the boys were at the Hullabaloo. It was just the two of them. He looked to Laura, then to Walter Cronkite, and then back to Laura. He pulled his feet out from under Wes and stood.

"I'm going to grab a bottle of champagne."

 _ **A Sight for sore Eyes:**_

 **Camp Ivanhoe. 7:59 p.m.-**

Ward and Chef watched as Captain Sharp's vehicle pulled in front of the compound.

The pair waved and then observed the vehicle's occupants emerge. With them was someone unexpected.

"I'll be a monkey's uncle," Ward said and smiled, "This night keeps getting better."

"Guess you're going to have a romantic evening Sir," Chef said and gave Ward a nudge in the ribs, "Me and the guys can keep Randy Junior occupied if you want."

"Thanks," Ward said as he made his way to his wife and son. Junior was passed out in his mother's arms, "Boy, are you two a sight for sore eyes. Then he looked down at his wife's belly, "I mean you three."

"Want to hold him?" Becky said.

"Always. What are you doing out here?"

"Captain Sharp invited us to go along with you all."

"That's great!"

"Actually, it was Edgar's idea," Sharp said.

Edgar grunted in affirmation then said, "We best be on the road, there's no tellin when them boys are gonna be walkin around up there."

 _ **Moonlight:**_

 **The Woods, 8:34 p.m. approximately .95 miles from the former Mile 3.25 Tidal Inlet-**

The soft moonlight of the waxing Moon filtered its way through the trees and illuminated both the old pathway and the boy who traveled it. The humid night, coupled with the light of the moon and the sounds of nocturnal animals made the night even more magical than it already felt to Scott.

He was getting closer to his destination. He planned to get within a stone's throw of it and wait for word of the astronaut's impending debarkation of their craft. Then, and only then would he make his move.

He secretly hoped however, that he would cross paths with his troopmates. After his talk with Sam and Suzy, he had thought long and hard about their conversation and his decision to welcome the troop to come with him to Moonrise Kingdom. He had no idea how it would go, but he did prepare himself for another round with Tucker. He had beaten him by catching him off his guard but he was certain that Tucker wouldn't allow it to happen again. Then he thought of the nod that Tucker had given him when he had asked him to let him go on his way. Maybe Tucker wouldn't want to fight him again.

If that was the case, then it would come down to Scott inviting the other troopers to come with him on the final leg of his journey…but would they follow?

 _ **Slow going:**_

 **Troop 55, The Woods, 8:34 p.m. approximately 1 mile from the Former Mile 3.25 Tidal Inlet and .75 miles from Scott Sullivan-**

"If we go any slower, the sun will be up!" said Puddle who then immediately regretted the remark. He looked over his shoulder and saw Tripp who was moving along gingerly with the aid of Archer McMillan. "Sorry Tripp!"

"About what?" asked Tripp who evidently didn't hear the remark.

"Um, nothing," Puddle said, "Never mind!"

"How far are we Trigger?" asked Tucker.

The pathfinder stopped, pulled out his flashlight and consulted his map and compass. Seconds later he said, "About a mile."

"That's not too far."

"Think Sullivan will be there?" asked Doc.

"I hope so."

"There is one problem however," said Trigger.

"What is it?" asked Tucker.

"Look," Trigger said and pointed at the map. Tucker and Doc drew close and looked. According to the contour lines of the map there was some rugged terrain ahead which included a cliff. This feature overlooked the Old Chickchaw Harvest Migration Trail.

"That could be an issue," Doc said, "Especially for Tripp."

"We'll have to go around," said Trigger, "Unless you want to chance rappelling."

"What's the hold-up guys?" asked Archer, "Oh, it's your turn to help Tripp brother."

"Tripp, we have a problem," said Tucker.

"What is it?" asked Tripp.

"We're entering into some rough terrain. We're going to have to go around."

"How rough?"

"Rough," said Trigger who showed the injured boy the map, "I don't want to chance you getting hurt going down this cliff."

"I advise that we backtrack to that more manageable terrain here," Doc said and pointed the spot out to the troops who were all now assembled around Trigger, "It'll add time to the trek but it's better for you Tripp."

Tripp studied the map a moment then said, "Nonsense, let's keep going this way."

"Tripp, man," said Tucker, "You can't manage that with your injuries."

"I can manage just fine," Tripp replied matter-of-factly, "Come Archer, let us be on our way."

Archer watched as Tripp hobbled off toward the rough terrain. "Screw it," he said, "We've come this far, we may as well keep going."

"TRIPP, you may get more hurt!" yelled Doc.

"DOC!," Tripp yelled back, "Quit mothering me dangit!"

The rest of the boys looked at each other then headed after their friend.

Trigger reached Tripp first, grabbed Tripp's right arm, and threw it over his shoulders.

"Hey!" exclaimed Tripp, "What gives Trigger?"

"You keep a hold on to me as we go on," said Trigger who added, "Otherwise we will never hear the end of it from Doc."

 _ **Haven't we done this before?:**_

 **The roads of the Island of New Penzance, 8:34 p.m.-**

Nickleby and Redford cruised along the dirt roads of the Island of New Penzance in the Librarian's 1962 Chrysler Imperial. The librarian had been more than willing to lend the two his car once he was told they were looking for Sam and Suzy. They had been driving the roads for over half an hour and still had no sign of the pair. They were working their way westward in the general direction of the Bishop residence at Summer's End. Captain Sharp had told them that he doubted that the two were there and that the two boys should scan the roads.

"Haven't we done this before," asked Nickleby who sat at the wheel.

"Except for being in a car, yes," replied Redford.

"Sam and Suzy out walking in the woods, who'd have thunk it?"

"I'm not surprised," Redford answered as he unconsciously ran his hand under his shirt to touch the scar that Suzy's knife had imprinted on him.

"Still no movement from the astronauts," Nickleby said.

The two had the radio on and had been listening to updates on the mission but so far, no moonwalk.

"You know something," Redford asked.

"I know a few things," Nickleby answered in a snarky voice.

Redford laughed, "I've been thinking about the Khaki Scouts."

"What about them?"

"Ever miss it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't laugh, but every now and then I dream that I'm still in."

Some people would have laughed at Redford but not Nickleby, for he had the same dream scenario.

"I hear ya."

"We're with the guys again, minus Shakusky, "And we're wearing the uniform again."

"Crazy isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Sometimes I regret leaving."

"Me too."

"It's nice to be back with the old gang again…especially if we find Shakusky and his girl."

"And as long as she doesn't stab you in the back again with her lefty scissors!" Nickleby laughed. He couldn't help but throw that out there.

Redford gave his friend the one fingered salute and then asked Nickleby the question that he had been thinking of asking him since this Deluca had rolled up on the motorcycle.

"What do you think of signing back up? I think I'm going to. Do you want to?"

"Sign up with the Khaki Scouts again?"

"Yeah."

Nickleby went quiet and thought it over. If he and Redford rejoined, they would be old enough to be in leadership positions as junior scoutmasters (with a refresher course naturally) and serve alongside their old troopmates.

"You know what Redford," Nickleby said then added with emphasis, "Screw it! Let's do it!"

"Serious?"

"Yeah, then all we need is for Shakusky to rejoin and it'll be like 1965 again…minus the personality problems, manhunt, and storm."

Redford grinned, "All right! I knew you'd come around."

Nickleby shot his friend a look, "How long have you been debating this?"

"Ever since Deluca rolled into the shop. Now let's find Mister and Missus Shakusky!"

 _ **Beach blanket viewing party:**_

 **The Eastern shore of the Island of New Penzance, 8:48 p.m.-**

Captain Sharp, Edgar, the Wards, and Chef pulled into the dirt lot that lay astride the beach. They exited the vehicle and walked down toward Old Troop 55 and the Librarian.

"Leave it to these guys to go and bring a TV to the beach," commented Chef upon seeing a working TV atop a stack of milk crates. In front of it were beach towels and folding chairs.

"Gotta hand it to them," said Sharp, "They really think of everything."

The scouts had hooked the TV up to a generator via a 50-foot extension cable. There were folding chairs, coolers, and the smell of burgers and hotdogs from a grill being manned by Paneagle. On top of all of this, there were stings of Christmas lights that lined the railing of the pier where the boats had docked.

"Hey guys!" shouted Skotak, "Glad you could make it!"

"Hey Chef!" yelled Paneagle from the pier, "Think you could lend me a hand?"

Chef turned to Ward, "I think I'm being called!"

Ward watched the boy hurry over to assist Paneagle.

"Your boys sure know how to run an operation," Becky said to her husband.

Ward beamed with pride, "They're something else."

"Good evening Sir," said Gadge as he trotted up to the arrivals, "Six of you in total?"

"Good evening Gadge," replied Ward, "That's affirmative."

"Very good Sir," I'll let Paneagle and Chef to cook up an adequate number of burgers and dogs."

The arrivals reached the TV and were now joined by Skotak.

"I'm glad you could all make it," the scout said, "Did you see Deputy Shakusky and Suzy? We sent Nickleby and Redford to look for them but they're not back yet."

"Nickleby and Redford?" Ward said in surprise, "You got them to come out here?"

"Yes Sir."

"How?"

Skotak gave a wry-looking smile, "I just have a way with words."

There was a WOOSH and a burst of light that caught their attention. Deluca and Roosevelt stood beside a bonfire. In Deluca's hand was a container of lighter fluid; Roosevelt held a pack of matches.

Ward looked to Skotak and said, "Don't let them stand too close to it, that's a guaranteed burn for sure."

"Well, where would you have them stand?"

"Away," Ward said as he hastened to over toward the TV.

Skotak lowered his head, sighed, and went to remind Deluca and Roosevelt about proper fire safety techniques.

 _ **What is everybody else doing right now?:**_

 **The Woods, 8:50 p.m. approximately half a mile from the former Mile 3.25 Tidal Inlet-**

Scott checked his watch: 8:50 p.m. He sighed, _this is taking too long!_ He thought. He wound up the radio and listened for the third time in 12 minutes. Nothing new. Astronauts still in a hold status, the world's collective breath held.

The thought of the world made him wonder what everyone else was doing right now. He imagined Mission Control at Cape Canaveral and Houston was a flurry of activity. He figured that everyone in town was sitting in front of their televisions watching the drama unfold. A few hours from his present point, Times Square was probably jammed packed with people. Even Fort Lebanon would be holding a celebration tonight. Everywhere across the Earth millions, maybe even billions, would be awaiting the news that men had set foot on the Moon.

Then a thought much closer to home struck him: what were his parents doing right now? More than likely they were in separate parts of the house. Maybe one wasn't home. He figured his dad wad at his favorite bar, _The Hideaway,_ with his friends from work. His mom was probably sitting on the couch alone.

Part of him was hoping that for just one night, his parents could put aside their animosity and sit and watch history being made. If they could do that, then maybe they could talk like adults. If they did, then maybe they could come to terms with one another and work things out.

It as Scott's biggest hope that his parents could make amends and save their marriage. Then they could be a real family again. If that didn't happen, he was going to have to find a way to deal with it. Regardless, he was going to make an effort to forgive Tucker and try to reestablish their friendship. Since parting with Sam and Suzy, he had made the decision to go ahead and try. He wasn't sure Tucker would be receptive but he knew the only way to find out was to try.

If he and Tucker could patch things up, then maybe his parents could to.

 _ **Need a lift?:**_

 **Along the Old Chickchaw Harvest Migration trail, 9:05 p.m. Sam and Suzy-**

"I think we might miss it happen," Suzy said she looked up at the Moon. It's getting late and we're still a ways from the station."

"I misjudged the distance and how long it took to find Scott," Sam answered, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Suzy said as she turned to face Sam. She put her arms around him, "Being together is all the adventure I need."

Sam leaned closer and kissed her.

Suddenly they were illuminated by the headlights of an oncoming vehicle.

 **Redford and Nickleby-**

"Check this out," Nickleby said and pointed at something in front of the car, "There's two people making out!"

"It's them," said Redford.

"How do you know?"

"Who else would be making out in the middle of a lane at night?"

"Good point."

Nickleby slowed the car down and brought it to a stop next to Sam and Suzy who had now ceased their romantic activity.

Redford leaned out of the passenger window and grinned, "You kids need a lift?"

 _ **Is that what I think it is?:**_

 **Troop 55, The Woods, 9:05 p.m. approximately .95 miles from the Former Mile 3.25 Tidal Inlet and .7 miles from Scott Sullivan-**

"Easy does it Trigger, don't drop him," urged Bishop who had finished fastening Tripp to the pathfinder.

"I won't, as long as you tied him to me correctly," Trigger answered as he rolled to his side and pushed himself to his feet.

Tripp, firmly secured to Trigger's back, barely moved as his carrier stood.

"You good Tripp?" asked Tucker.

"Trigger's joints are digging into me but I can manage."

"Are you sure?" asked Tucker, "If you want, I can have Doc take some extra shirts and sandwich them between the two of you to cushion you if you'd like."

"I'm alright."

"Sure?"

"Sure. It's a minor inconvenience."

"Having you on my back is no picnic either," said Trigger, "Why isn't anyone worrying about how I feel?"

"Guys, I know this is a short-cut, but I _must_ advise against this," said the exasperated Doc, "Tripp is injured and slapping him onto Trigger's back isn't helping. We need to go around."

"Doc, stop being such a worry-wart," said Archer, who locked a carabiner into his Swiss Seat while Bishop shined his flashlight on it, "I'll be on the ground first and will make sure that he gets down safely."

The boys all stood on the cliff making their final preparations for the rappel. Each boy had a length of rope tied around their waist and between their legs. This configuration was referred to as a Swiss Seat and was used as a hasty method for rappelling. Each seat also had a locking carabiner which would be attached to the rope which they would be coming down on. All of the boys had ditched their packs and marked their position on the map so that they could come back and retrieve them later. The only one who would be rappelling with a pack was Doc who insisted that his first-aid equipment came with him.

The rope was secured to a tree by Puddle who, as luck would have it, was rappel-master certified by his old troop. Normally, only scoutmasters and junior scoutmasters were certified, but Puddle's father, a former scoutmaster, was a certified rappelling instructor and avid climber. He had imparted his wisdom on his son and now his son was using his expertise to move the troop along.

"It's ready guys," said Puddle.

"OK Archer, you're up!" said Tucker.

Archer nodded and then walked backward toward the edge of the cliff.

Puddle knelt a yard from Archer and was about to help ease him over when he looked up and saw something outlined in the faint light.

"What's that?" he asked.

"What's what?" was Archer's reply.

"That," Puddle said and pointed up at a tree that was behind Archer.

Bishop shone his flashlight at the tree to reveal to the boys an improbable sight: a small motorcycle.

"What the hell?" said the twins in amazement.

"Is that what I think it is?" said Doc.

"What is a motorcycle doing in a tree?" asked Tripp.

"Oh wow," said Bishop, "It's Redford's old motorcycle!"

"Redford?" asked Puddle, "You mean _thee_ Redford? The one your sister stabbed?"

"She did it in self-defense…but yeah, it's the same one! I remember hearing about how it ended up in a tree during the fight. Apparently no one decided to get it down."

"This is where Sam and Suzy faced off against Redford and the old troop," said Archer.

"That means the draw we walked up was where the actual fight took place," said Tucker, "Redford charged up the hill and must've gotten knocked off or fell off when he got stabbed and the motorcycle kept going until it went off the cliff and flew into the tree!"

"And it stayed up their in spite of the storm!" Bishop exclaimed.

"Hey guys!" said Trigger loud enough to divert everyone's attention away from the motorcycle, "Can we move along? The cripple here is getting heavy."

"I love you too," was Tripp's sarcastic response to Trigger's cripple comment.

"Trigger's right," said Tucker, "We need to move. Archer, ya ready?"

"Been ready boss."

"Puddle, ease him down, slowly."

"Right boss," Puddle said. He looked at Archer and asked, "Ready?"

"Ready on rappel."

Puddle nodded and Archer took a few short steps backward, assumed a letter 'L' position and pushed off the cliff.

The boys watched as Archer disappeared into inky blackness.

"This cliff is about 75 feet up," said Doc, "He could get hurt along the way."

"Doc," said Tucker, "I know you're concerned with everyone's well-being and I respect that, but-and I'm saying this as a friend, stop being such Negative Nancy."

"I am not a Negative Nancy!" Doc shot back, "I care about people's well-being, I'm going to be a doctor someday!"

"Negative Nancy," Tucker repeated with a grin.

Doc could make out Tucker's grin in the moonlight and said, "Wipe that shit-eating grin off your face…jackass."

"I love you too Doc," Tucker replied in a chipper voice.

Doc rolled his eyes and said sourly, "I should feel so blessed."

"HEY GUYS!" echoed Archer's voice from below, "READY ON BELAY!"

"READY ON RAPPEL!" shouted Trigger who turned his head back to look over his shoulder at Tripp, "Ready buddy?"

"I was born ready!"

Trigger stared at the injured and hapless Tripp for a moment then burst out in maniacal laughter as Puddle locked him into the rope. "Hold on precious!"

Seconds later the pair vanished over the edge.

 _ **A Romantic Evening:**_

 **Summer's End, 9:10 p.m.-**

Walt and Laura Bishop sat on the love seat in front of the television which Walt had repositioned in front of the window that overlooked the water. Behind the television was the sliver of the Moon. This was one of the few instances where they had the house to themselves. Over the years, and the sessions of marriage counseling, they had become closer, although their serious demeanors didn't give it away. Now they sat back, champagne glasses in hand, Wes at their feet, and watched the live feed of the Moon mission.

"Think the boys are watching this?" asked Laura.

"I'm sure they are," answered Walt, "Apparently, there is going to be a viewing party at the fort tonight."

"If Suzy isn't back soon, she's going to miss it."

"Maybe Sam will have it on at the station."

"Maybe, but regardless, it is nice to have the house to ourselves counselor."

"I agree counselor."

Their quiet evening was interrupted by the sound of a car pulling into their drive way.

 _ **Front row seats:**_

 **Fort Lebanon, 9:15 p.m.-**

"This is great!" exclaimed Rudy to his brother, "We've got front row seats!"

"And 'smores!" replied Murray who handed his younger brother a 'smore. He then sat down next to him and watched as the NASA technicians on TV sat at their workstations and monitored the Apollo Mission.

"I can hardly stand all this waiting around!"

"Me too, they're taking too much time!"

The boy's banter was cut off by a voice from a megaphone, not unlike the one their mother used around the house.

"Attention everyone!" said Secretary McIntire, "Commander Pierce!"

The boys, virtually the entire camp, rose at the introduction of the grizzled commander of this region of the KSNA.

"GOOD EVENING TROOPS!" Commander Pierce said.

"GOOD EVENING SIR!" the troops responded.

"Tonight, we are at the culmination of this year's Hullabaloo! Soon, our astronauts will set foot on the Moon. They embody the very spirit of adventure that we have come here to share in. We've accomplished much in these past few days: orienteering and pathfinding, first-aid, rappelling, skit competitions, model rocketry, arts and crafts, skits, and the Capture the Flag tournament. We've had an adventure but our adventure isn't over. Soon, we will share in the adventure of Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, and Michael Collins. Memories will be made tonight and dreams realized. Tonight, let the spirt of adventure live through the Khaki Scout Motto!"

As one the boys jumped to their feet, "Fidelity, fearlessness and friendship!" They shouted as one.

Pierce looked on his troops in pride, "If there is only one thing that you young men take from this Hullabaloo, let it be this: You have a choice to make your lives what they will be: Make them be a life of adventure!"

Both Bishop boys joined their fellow scouts in a chorus of cheers. Never had both felt so proud to wear the Khaki Scout uniform. Tonight, was the astronauts' night and their night.

 _ **Scott gets sleepy:**_

 **The Woods, 9:30 p.m. approximately a quarter mile from the former Mile 3.25 Tidal Inlet-**

Scott could smell the salt of the sea air. He was getting close. He took his map out and shined his flashlight on it: He was approximately a quarter mile from his destination. He was so close!

The past half a mile had been a little arduous. He had entered into thick vegetation which reduced his visibility by half. He refrained from using his flashlight in order to preserve his night vision. He also narrowly avoided tripping on a tree root.

Now he was feeling tired. The events of the past few days were finally catching up with him. His muscles were strained, his feet sore, and his eyelids heavy.

Against his better judgement, he decided to sit down and lean against a tree. What was the harm? He had planned to wait near his destination and listen to the radio until the last minute. According to the last radio report, the astronauts were still set to exit the lander shortly before 11:00 p.m. EST. He would just sit and rest until 10:30. What harm could a little rest be? He'd just sit and rest his legs and wait.

Within 30 seconds Scott was asleep and dreaming about the blackness of space.

 _ **The Gang's all here!:**_

 **The Eastern shore of the Island of New Penzance, 9:35 p.m.-**

Nickleby had just finished driving them to the Bishop residence at Summer's End where Suzy had told her parents that she and Sam were going to a viewing party with their friends. Suzy thought it was a little odd that her parents didn't seem to mind but she chalked it up as the two of them wanting her to go and have fun. Over the years their relationship with their daughter had improved. Little did she know that her parents had an ulterior motive in letting their daughter go out tonight.

Now, Nickleby brought the Imperial to a halt in front of the beach.

"We have reached our destination, please exit the vehicle in an orderly fashion," he said.

"Yeah lovebirds, let's hop to it!" said Redford.

Suzy pulled her lefty scissors out and held them up to Redford's face, "I brought these," she said.

Redford recoiled reflexively and gulped, "Hehe, whatcha bring those for?"

"For old times' sake."

"I don't think my body can take that kind of old times sake," he laughed nervously.

"Don't worry," Suzy said and smiled, "I won't stab you, I don't stab friends."

"Good to know."

"Yup," Sam said, "Besides, I'm going to need you to be a groomsman in a few years."

Redford broke into a goofy-looking smile at Sam's statement. This was the first he heard about it.

"Really?" he said.

"Really," Sam said and looked to Nickleby, "You and the guys."

The two apprentice mechanics watched as the couple exited the car, Sam opening the door for Suzy, and walked toward the group on the beach.

"You hear that?" Nickleby asked Redford.

"Yeah," Redford said. He wouldn't admit it, but he was touched by Sam's gesture, "But I guess we'll have to wait a few years till we're older to be groomsmen."

Nickleby smiled and said, "I wonder who's going to be his best man."

"Hi Skotak!" Sam said as he saw his best friend (male best friend, Suzy was his _best friend)_ walking up from the beach toward them.

"Hi Sam, hi Suzy," said Skotak, "I'm glad you could make it!"

"You guys have been busy," Suzy said as she took in the scene before her.

"While Nickleby and Redford were out searching for you, me and the rest of the guys were getting everything set up."

"There's Captain Sharp's cruiser," Suzy pointed to Sam.

"And Scoutmaster Ward," he replied, "Hey Skotak I have a question for you."

"What is it?"

"I mentioned something to Redford and Nickleby and, well it's a few years off, but will you be my best man when Suzy and I officially get married?"

Skotak stood speechless as he absorbed what his best friend had told him, then a grin formed on his face, "It'd be an honor...would you want to be my best man too?"

Sam smiled and stuck out his hand which Skotak took and shook, "Definitely!"

By now, all of the former members of Troops 55 had noticed their arrival and were drawing closer.

Roosevelt saw Suzy and smiled at her. He hoped he could find out from her if her friend Isabella liked him…or at least was aware of him.

Skotak smiled and then said, "Follow me, I've got something for you Shakusky."

He then wrapped his arm around Suzy's and said, "Shall we?"

"We shall," she replied.

The pair walked down onto the beach, with Skotak, Redford, and Nickleby following a moment later.

"Did Shakusky mention anything to you?" Redford asked Skotak as he hurried alongside him, "He said something to Nickleby and me."

"If he told you what he told me," said Skotak, "Then we'll all be dressed up together in a few years!"

Captain Sharp looked and saw his adopted son and his future daughter-in-law walking down the beach toward them. A smile formed on his normally serious face.

Scoutmaster Ward turned and saw the quartet approaching and a smile crossed his face, "They're here!"

"Oh wow," said Chef, "The troops back together! The gang's all here!"

Skotak led the pair to the pier, then he climbed into the _Sally Ann._ When he reappeared he had something in his hands which he held out to Sam.

"This should fit you."

Sam looked at the uniform top and broke into a smile, "Is that what I think it is?"

"Whaddya say Shakusky? Want to come back to the Khaki Scouts?"

Sam paused then looked to Redford and Nickleby who were wearing uniforms tops.

"Did you two come back to the Khaki Scouts?"

"I'm signing back up," said Nickleby.

"Redford, are you?" Sam asked his former arch-nemesis.

"Yes, Scoutmaster Ward could do the honors."

Sam looked to Scoutmaster Ward and his adoptive father who had both moved closer to the teens. Both smiled and nodded. He then looked to Suzy. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze and nodded.

He then reached for the uniform top.

 _ **Puddle's handiwork:**_

 **Troop 55, The Woods, 9:35 p.m. approximately .95 miles from the Former Mile 3.25 Tidal Inlet and .7 miles from Scott Sullivan-**

Tucker and Puddle looked down below and saw a flashlight illuminating Bishop who had just reached the ground. He was helped off the rope by Doc, who had preceded him, and Archer. Now it was just the two of them.

"You're next boss," Puddle said, "By KSNA guidelines if there is only one rappel master present, they go last. "

"I'm not going to argue with the guidelines," said Tucker as he snapped himself in, "Ready to ease me off?"

"Ready."

Tucker whistled down to Archer who responded with, "READY ON BELAY!"

"READY ON RAPPEL!" replied Tucker who took in all of Puddle's handiwork and said, "This is an amazing job Puddle. You set this whole system up perfectly and at night! You must have done this a bunch of times."

Puddle eased Tucker out to the ledge and said, "This is actually my first time doing it on my own for real."

Tucker's eyes popped open wide, "You're first time doing this on your own at night…right?"

"No," Puddle said seriously, "Ever."

"What," Tucker was about to say more but he shifted, and went backward. He kicked off and went down without finishing his sentence.

As Tucker closed in on the ground, Archer pulled the rope taught to slow his descent. Gradually he eased up and allowed Tucker to reach the ground. Once there, Tucker backed away from the rope until he separated himself from it.

Once the rope was open, Archer yelled again, "READY ON BELAY!"

Up above the rest of the troop, Puddle heard Archer's voice and yelled out, "READY ON RAPPELL!" He then linked himself into the rope, but he did so in a different way. Instead of being clipped in from the front, Puddle clipped himself from behind. He then walked face first toward the edge, stopped, and leaned forward. His body gradually teetered out until he was at a 45 degree angle.

"Wait till they get a load of this!" he said and then pushed off into the night air.

Down below the boys waited in anticipation for Puddle to come down. Bishop shined his flashlight up about midway up the cliff and then stared in amazement.

"Whoa," he said.

The others all looked up and went wide-eyed as the little scout came down face first.

"Is he smiling?" asked Trigger.

"I think so," Archer replied.

"Hi guys!" Puddle called down from above and waved his free hand.

Tucker laughed, "How's it hanging?"

"It's hanging," Puddle said and then used his left hand (his break hand) to stop. He then adjusted himself until his head was pointed toward the ground and his feet were to the sky. He then continued his descent and stopped once more at around six feet from the ground. At this point he righted himself and the lowered onto the ground.

"OK, I'm impressed," said Doc who had only seen scoutmasters pull off a rappel like that."

"Puddle's the real deal," said Tripp.

Tucker grinned and said playfully, "Show off."

"Who, me?" replied Puddle with a great big smile on his freckled face.

"I had no idea you could do that," said Archer.

"What other tricks do you have up your sleeves?" asked Trigger.

"Ummm," the ginger-haired boy went and then pointed to his right ear, "Look at my ears."

The boys looked closely and a second later saw Puddle's ears wiggle.

A series of giggles erupted among them.

"That's great!" Trigger said, "How'd you learn to do that?"

"With practice," Puddle replied, "A lot of practice."

With that, the troop formed a file and moved on.

The boys continued on at a pace that was faster than should be undertaken in the darkness of the woods. As a result, one boy did his best impersonation of Tripp and tripped over a rock and went down a slope.

 _ **Touchdown:**_

 **The Woods, 10:24 p.m. approximately a quarter mile from the former Mile 3.25 Tidal Inlet-**

 _Astronaut Scott B. Sullivan donned his helmet and shuffled toward the airlock. He opened the door and stepped through. Once in, he sealed it and spoke aloud._

" _Houston, this is Sullivan. I have entered the airlock and am prepared to exit the lander over."_

" _Commander Sullivan," came the voice of Mission Control, "We read you loud and clear. Begin depressurization sequence now, over."_

" _Roger Houston," he said and pressed a button on the wall. Instantly the pressure in the chamber lessened and a green light came on. "Houston, depressurization sequence complete, over."_

" _Affirmative Commander, are you ready to begin the next phase of the mission, over?"_

" _Roger."_

" _Commander, be advised that there are an estimated 600 million people around the world watching. Do you have you message to them ready, over?"_

" _Roger Houston, I have my message ready."_

" _You may exit the lander, over."_

" _Roger."_

 _He pressed a button and the door opened to reveal the barren, gray lunar landscape. His heart beat sped up with excitement, and a smile formed on his face. This is it!_

 _He stepped down the ladder and touched the surface. As he did he gave his message to the world._

 _Commander Sullivan didn't actually have a message prepared. He had no big flowery speech, no words of wisdom to give, nothing of any deep meaning._

 _What he said was this-"TOUCHDOWN SULLIVAN!"_

 _Crowds of people across the world went wild as Commander Sullivan scored humanity's first step on another world._

" _Commander Sullivan," said Mission Control, "The President has just telephoned, he wants to congratulate you!"_

 _The voice of the President came over the radio, "Commander Sullivan, you are an America hero! You are an inspiration to the whole world. You have achieved greatness! On behalf of the American people, and of the entire earth, we thank you and are awarding you the Presidential Medal of Freedom and a parade in your honor!"_

" _Thank you Sir! Thank you," he said._

 _Suddenly there was a crashing sound. Something had hit the lander! Commander Sullivan grabbed onto the lander._

" _Houston, I have a problem!"_

Scott shot up from the ground and out of his dream as he heard something fall.

A grunt followed by, "CRIPES TRIPP, YOU JINXED ME!"

Trigger.

 _ **Now we're getting somewhere:**_

 **Summer's End, 10:24 p.m.-**

The Bishops sat on the couch and watched as the astronauts informed Mission Control that they were going to begin procedures for exiting the lander. Unconsciously they leaned forward in anticipation.

"It's about time," Laura said and took a sip of her champagne.

"Now we're getting somewhere," Walt said.

"I think it's going to take them a little while longer, but I think it'll happen by eleven."

Walt looked at his glass; it was almost empty. He then glanced at Laura's' hers was now empty. He stood and took her glass, "I'll be right back."

 _ **Surrounded:**_

 **The Woods, 10:25 p.m. approximately a quarter mile from the former Mile 3.25 Tidal Inlet-**

Trigger recovered from his/slide down the rise and got on his hands and knees. He looked up and in the faint moonlight saw a figure. He squinted and then said, "Found him!"

Scott heard Trigger's words and watched as the pathfinder stood and shine his flashlight to signal his fellow troopers.

The rest of Troop 55 made their way down the slope and formed a circle around Scott and Trigger. Each boy stayed quiet, as a matter-of-fact, Scott noticed that the night was still. The night creatures were silent. It was if he were in a vacuum. Things were downright eerie.

He now had a choice: either turn and beat feet toward Moonrise Kingdom which was dependent on whether they attacked him, or stand his ground and make his peace offering.

"You got me surrounded," he said, "Now what?"

 _ **Together again:**_

 **The Eastern shore of the Island of New Penzance, 10:26 p.m.-**

"And so in accordance with The Regulation governing the re-entry of boys into the Khaki Scouts of North America as well as the auspices of the Regional Authority for the KSNA," Scoutmaster Ward said, "I hereby re-induct the following into the Khaki Scouts of North America: Lucas Redford, Thomas Nickleby, and Samuel Jared Shakusky."

The trio stepped forward from the assembled scouts and stopped in front of the bonfire. Each boy was handed a small tree branch by Ward. They then placed them in the fire and raised the now burning branches. Then, with their peers: Charles 'Lazy-eye' Kilgore, Maxwell 'Chef' Derderian, Rob Deluca Jr., Seamus Roosevelt, Gabriel Skotak, L.J Izod, Andres Paneagle, and Chander Gadge, recited the Khaki Scout Motto followed by the Khaki Scout Laws-

"Fidelity, fearlessness, and friendship!"

"Every Scout is your brother, regardless of who he is, you will be unwavering and straight forward in solidarity which must bind together all members of the same troop."

"A Scout is good and upright at all times."

"No Scout is an island, he is part of a team; no Scout leaves another behind."

"A Scout is a caretaker and steward of nature."

"A Scout is brave and steadfast even in the face of danger."

"Welcome back Scouts!" Ward said.

The other scouts responded with "HIP-HIP-HOORAY! HIP-HIP-HOORAY! HIP-HIP-HOORAY!"

The scout filed by their old/new fellow scouts and shook their hands in congratulations. They were followed by Mrs. Ward, the Librarian, Edgar, and last by Captain Sharp.

As he stopped in from of Fieldmate Shakusky and shook his hand, Sharp leaned close to the scout and said, "You've come full circle pal."

"So have you," Sam replied, "We're all together again Dad."

Ward gave a small smile and winked at his adopted son, "You make me proud Son."

Sam smiled and said, "So do you."

"Hey guys!" came Lazy-eye who was now by the TV, "Come here! It looks like their getting ready to go outside."

 _ **Here we go:**_

 **Fort Lebanon, 10:26 p.m.-**

On the TV screens, Mission Command was seen giving the order for Armstrong and Aldrin to prepare to step out of the lander.

"Hey guys, check it out!" said Joey Tammasino to his fellow Black Sheep as he pointed his head out of a side door, "They're getting ready to go out!"

Outside Kevin 'Blackie' Muldoon, Charlie 'Horse' Atwater, and Archibald 'Archie' Black were busy passing a cigarette back and forth between them. This one Blackie had acquired from Zachary 'Zipper' Solomon earlier in the evening. Before they could put it out another voice called to them.

"HEY CAMPERS! THAT'S AGAINST THE RULES," bellowed the voice of Scoutmaster Hurt from Troop 67 who had stuck his head out the door next to Tammasino, "YOU'RE ALL ON REPORT FOR RULES VIOLATIONS!"

"Urgh!" said Atwater, "We're gonna get demerits!"

"Figures," said Blackie.

"I knew smoking was bad," said Black.

Back inside the Bishop boys inched their way closer to the nearest TV screen. All the scouts were crowding around and room was tight. There was supposed to be a fourth TV, but had mysteriously gone missing.

Rudy and Lionel did notice that something else was missing, or rather, _someone_ else.

"Have you seen Lionel?" Rudy asked his brother.

Murray craned his head left and right and said, "I haven't seen him since we waved to him the other day."

"Where do you think he is?"

"Beats me."

 _ **Every Scout is your Brother:**_

 **The Woods, 10:26 p.m. approximately a quarter mile from the former Mile 3.25 Tidal Inlet-**

Bishop thought he was looking at Sam Shakusky but the realized that Sullivan was wearing a coonskin cap on his head. He wondered where it had come from. Had Sam Shakusky found him first?

He then watched as Sullivan stood his ground in the middle of the circle of scouts. He reasoned that Sullivan must've thought that they were there to take him back by force. Little did he know that they troop, under Tucker's leadership had resolved to find their fellow scout and make amends.

Trigger slowly backed away and joined the circle, leaving Scott alone in the center.

Scott now stood alone and in the middle of a dilemma: should he make the peace offering or wait and see what Tucker and the troop would do?

Tucker had spent his life being a golden boy who everyone listened to and followed. It would be completely out of character if he didn't make the first move. He took a deep breath and walked forward.

Scott made his decision: he was going to offer the proverbial olive branch. He took a step forward.

Bishop stared intently as both Tucker and Sullivan step toward each other at the same time.

Both boys now found themselves in a Mexican standoff. Who would make the first move and what would it be?

"Trigger finally found you," Tucker said lamely.

"I figured I couldn't stay hidden from him," Scott said, "He's too good."

"The best around."

"True."

"Listen, the guys and me are-"

"Here to bring me back, I got it."

"No, it's-"

"I was wondering if…" Scott was about to say, _I was wondering if you guys want to go on with me,_ but Tucker interrupted him.

"We're here for friendship. We're not taking you off this island."

Scott was taken aback by what he just heard, "Wh-why?"

Tucker closed his eyes for a moment, opened them, and spoke, "I wanted to knock the shit out of you…but I finally realize that I've been a jackass to you this whole time…I hated you for something you didn't even do. Worse, I turned the guys against you…It took you helping me up to understand that you never did anything against me. I ignored the First Scout Law and let the troop down…so," Tucker paused, choked a bit and swallowed his wounded pride, "I'm…I'm sorry."

Scott saw as the normally self-assured and cocky Tucker withered under his own admission of guilt. Despite all of his brashness and his tough exterior, Tucker was like everyone else, vulnerable. Scott then made his move.

Bishop saw Sullivan slowly walk up to Tucker and extended his hand. He also noticed something else in his flashlight's beam-his wind-up radio. He slowly moved toward it.

Tucker looked down and saw the offered hand. He reached out tentatively to it.

The troop watched as the boys slowly shook hands.

"I'm sorry too," Scott said.

"Why?"

"For flaunting the rules and running off…for getting you in all trouble."

Tucker thought about one of his dad's sayings, a saying that was more than appropriate for this moment: "A friend will bail you out of jail, a true friend will be in the cell with you saying 'damn we messed up…but it sure was fun!'"

"I forgive you," Scott said earnestly.

"I forgive you too," Tucker replied quietly, "Friends?"

Scott smiled, "Friends!"

The rest of the scouts erupted into cheers as their troop came back together.

Bishop, who had just started listening in on the Apollo Mission called out, "THEY'RE GOING TO GET OUT IN A FEW MINUTES!"

The boys all froze.

Scott's heart began pumping hard, he had to get to Moonrise Kingdom, as Suzy had said it-his kingdom. But what kind of a kingdom would it be if it was for he alone.

"Do you guy want to finish this adventure together?" he asked.

A chorus of yeses and yeahs resounded among the boys.

"LET'S DO IT!" Shouted Bishop.

Tucker turned to Trigger and Archer, "Grab Tripp."

The two complied and grabbed their injured friend.

"FOLLOW ME!" Scott yelled at his brother scouts and led them to Moonrise Kingdom.

 _ **"That's one small step for Man, one giant leap for Mankind:**_

 **Fort Lebanon, 10:55 p.m.-**

The minutes counting down to this moment were slow and were taking their toll on Rudy and Murray. They sat glued to the nearest TV waiting for something to happen. Finally, that something was happening.

"He's entering the airlock!" exclaimed Murray as he pointed to the screen.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," chanted Rudy as he unconsciously rocked back in forth in anticipation for what was coming next.

The room fell into silence. Over two hundred and fifty scouts plus scoutmasters and assorted camp staff sat quietly waiting for Armstrong's next move.

The airlock opened.

 **The Moon, Sea of Tranquility-**

Astronaut Neil Armstrong stepped down onto the ladder. He climbed down and then placed a foot on the Moon. As he set foot on Earth's neighbor, he said eleven words that would be cemented into human history: "That's one small step for Man. One giant leap for Mankind."

 **Fort Lebanon, 10:56 p.m.-**

The silence in the mess hall was broken as cheers erupted from the scouts and staff. People shot to the feet, some jumped up, others hugged, a couple shed tears of joy, all were amazed. Even the gruff Camp Commander had a smile cross his craggy face.

"They did it! They did it!"

Secretary McIntire, normally subdued, threw off his hat and cheered, "THEY DID IT!"

Commander Pierce looked at his assistant with a sharp look. McIntire stoop cheering and froze in fear of what his superior would do for his lack of composure. Instead he was surprised when the old man smiled and clapped him on the back. They then gave eachother a bear hug.

Cousin Ben walked up to the pair and said, "Leave a little room for the Holy Ghost," then walked off.

The two men quickly ended their embrace. Cousin Ben sauntered through the mess hall and outside. He looked up at the Moon and somehow knew that Troop 55 had found Sullivan and reached their destination.

Dwight Joseph 'DJ' Leffingwell put his bugle to his lips and immediately began playing the Khaki Scout March.

The Black Sheep, now all assembled, jumped up on their table and threw off their caps in celebration.

Fruit Frahm, Kip Foley, Ollie Oliver, and Hef Heflin darted outside along with Scoutmaster Rosen and the rest of Troop 41 and the two fireworks technicians. They reached the center of the camp and moments later the first fireworks rocketed into the night sky.

Hearing the blasts of the fireworks, the rest of the mess hall's occupants exited the building in a semi-orderly fashion and watched as the pyrotechnics brightened the night.

Rudy and Murray climbed up the ladder that was on the south side of the mess hall and climbed onto the roof. There they had the best view in the house.

 **Summer's End, 10:56 p.m.-**

"Here's to the astronauts," Walt proposed and raised his glass.

"Here's to us," Laura said as she touched her glass to her husband's.

Wes meowed.

The two snuggled closer and both silently thanked their marriage counselor for helping to save their marriage. The past four years hadn't been easy but right now things were good and they were determined to stay that way. After all, they were all their children had. They kissed, and then sat there are continued to watch history being made.

 **The Eastern shore of the Island of New Penzance, 10:56 p.m.-**

In the minutes leading to Neil Armstrong's first step, Sam took Suzy's hand and brought her close to him.

"Want to watch the Moon together?" he asked.

"What about the TV?" Suzy asked.

"We could look at it through the binoculars."

"Lionel took them, remember?"

"Oh yeah," Sam answered. He had forgotten but then saw something that made him believe even more in coincidences. It was Roosevelt, and he had a pair of binoculars with him. Sam stood and called to him, "Hey Roosevelt!"

Roosevelt trotted over to the two, "Hi, what's up?"

"Can we borrow your binoculars?"

"Um yeah," Roosevelt asked, "Why?"

Sam smiled and looked behind him at a sand dune about thirty yards from the group, then he nodded in direction of the TV.

Roosevelt smiled and nodded in understanding. He handed over the binoculars. He then told them to wait and fetched a pair out of the _Sally Ann_ and handed them to Sam.

As he did, Suzy leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, "You're a great guy Roosevelt, I'll tell Isabella that."

Roosevelt smiled and blushed, "Thanks!" He paused a moment and then asked, "Do you think she'd like to go see a movie?"

"She knows you from school, she likes you."

Roosevelt stood there and absorbed that last snippet of information as Sam and Suzy walked off to a nearby dune. He then smiled and gave a "WHOOHOO!"

Sam and Suzy sat on the dune and watched through Roosevelt's binoculars as Neil Armstrong took Man's first steps on another world. As he did, the crowd began cheering.

Scoutmaster Ward, holding the now awake Randall Jr, leaned over to his wife and said, "Have I told you today that I love you?"

"No, but I think you're going to," Becky Ward answered.

"I love you."

The two kissed one another while Randall Jr giggled.

The scouts shook each other's hands, hugged, high-fived one another, and cheered. Deluca jumped onto the _Sally Ann_ and sounded her horn. Lazy-eye played the Khaki Scout March with his bugle just as his protégé DJ Leffingwell was doing over at Fort Lebanon. Paneagle, Izod, and Skotak set off Roman candles into the air. Chef and Gadge celebrated with more 'smores while Redford and Nickleby lit new torches and waved them in the air. Once the initial cheer went off as Armstrong took his step, Roosevelt filtered out everything and thought about how to best approach Isabella about going on a date.

Edgar, un-phased by most things, remained un-phased on the outside but on the inside, he was elated. He never thought in all of his life that he'd see a man on the Moon.

Captain Sharp turned on the cruiser's siren and flashed its lights in celebration. He looked behind him and saw his adopted son and future daughter-in-law and smiled.

As soon as Sam and Suzy had watched Man's first steps on the Moon, they raised the binoculars to the sky and looked at the sliver of the Moon. They then lowered them and looked at one another.

They stared intently into each other's eyes.

Sam spoke first, "Do you think they made it to the kingdom in time?"

Suzy thought for a second then replied, "They did."

Sam smiled and said to her, "I love you."

Suzy smiled back, "I love you too."

The two kissed under the crescent Moon.

 **Nearing the former Mile 3.25 Tidal Inlet-**

Scott held the radio up to his ear as he jogged down toward the inlet. Neil Armstrong was about to step out. He looked up at the Moon and then back to the others. They were right behind them, flashlights shining their path ahead.

"Faster! Gotta make it!" he said. And then he saw it. He stopped and the troop stopped with him. Before them: a landscape once beautiful, now as barren as the Moon.

 **The Eastern shore of the Island of New Penzance-**

 _The Librarian stands on the shore next to his telescope, to his right the celebration is underway, above him, the Moon._

"The Moon Landing of July 20th 1969, was watched by an estimate 600 million people world-wide. Neil Armstrong and Edwin 'Buzz' Aldrin spent 22 hours on the Moon gathering rocks and dust, performing experiments, and passing reports to Mission Control.

They emplaced a plaque stating, ' _Here men from the planet Earth first set foot upon the Moon, July 1969 AD. We came in peace for all mankind.'_ They then departed and rejoined Michael Collins in the Lunar Orbiter. Five more missions were undertaken to the Moon with one aborting their journey due to technical problems. The final Apollo Mission took place in December of 1972. Since then, Man has not returned."

 _ **This is Our Land!:**_

 **Moonrise Kingdom, 10:56 p.m.-**

Scott B. Sullivan, Gregory Tucker, Lionel Bishop, Trevor 'Trigger' McMillan, Travis 'Archer' McMillan, James 'Puddle' Lake, Donald Tripp, and Stanislaus 'Doc' Kowalski looked at the wasteland before them. But instead of being dismayed they were elated. All knew that the storm of years past had devastated the inlet but that didn't matter to them. They had reached their destination. Their mission now accomplished, save for the final part. Scott took out his last cigarette, lit it and took a drag. It was immediately knocked to the ground and stepped on by Doc. The two locked eyes and Doc slowly shook his head, non-verbally telling Scott 'No.' Scott rolled his eyes, sighed, and smiled at the medic scout. He may as well quit smoking anyway.

Scott then looked at his kingdom-no, _their_ kingdom and said to his brothers in a loud voice, "THIS IS OUR LAND!"

"YES IT IS!" said the scouts.

The broadcaster on the radio informed them that Neil Armstrong was stepping onto the Moon.

As Neil Armstrong took one small step for Man, one giant leap for Mankind, the young men of Khaki Scouts of North America Troop 55 took one small step as boys and one giant leap as young men.

" _Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo what do you do?_

 _In April, I open my bill  
In May, I sing night and day  
In June, I change my tune  
In July, far far I fly  
In August, away I must..._

Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo what do you do?

In April, I open my bill  
In May, I sing night and day  
In June, I change my tune  
In July, far far I fly  
In August, away I must..."-Purley and Viola Tunnard

 **Author's Note:** The first time I watched _Moonrise Kingdom,_ I admit, I didn't particularly care for it. A couple weeks later I watched it and I loved it. I have no idea what was going on with me the first time I watched it, but I remember thinking, _how did I not see how great this movie is?_ Anyway, some of the characters in this story are based on people I know from when I was younger. Their names and nicknames are real. One gets in the spotlight, four are mentioned together, and the last is a member of Troop 55.


End file.
